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THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



THE 



MAID OF THE DOE; 



a §tap 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 



BY 



AN UNITED STATES' MAN 



ARE DEEDS OF GLORY WANTING TO THE MUSE ? 
CAN SHE NO SUBJECT FROM OUR ANNALS CHOOSE 
WORTHY THE SONG? 

Poem before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of 

Harvard University^ by Francis C. Cray, 



WASHINGTON: 
ROBERT FARNHAM. 

NEW-YORK: SAMUEL COLMAN. 

1842. 






ENTERED ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS IN THE YEAR 1842, BY PETER 
FORCE, IN THE CLERK'S OFFICE OF THE DISTRICT COURT OF THE DIS- 
TRICT OF COLUMBIA. 



PETER FORCE, PRINTER, 
TENTH STREET, WASHINGTON 



TO 



THE DESCENDANTS OF THE PATRIOTS 

WHOSE NAMES ADORN THIS POEM, 



IT IS AFFECTIONATELY 



DEDICATED 



BY THEIR KINSxMAN, THROUGH THAT ILLUSTRIOUS 
BROTHERHOOD, 



THE AUTHOR 



April ^m, 1842. 



PREFACE 



TO 



THE MAID OF THE DOE, 



PREFACE 



I HAVE thought my fellow-citizens might receive not 
unfavorably an attempt to present them with any scenes 
or soldiers of the Revolution in poetry ; for circum- 
stances have made me equally familiar with the richest 
and poorest classes of our country, and 1 have found the 
same interest pervading all in relation to the events and 
personages of that period of our history. Yet the reader 
should remember that to the success of such an attempt 
there are difficulties, apart from any want of genius in 
the author, inherent in his subject. The enlightened 
age and cultivated people, in which, and by whom the 
Revolution was accomplished, have made the heroic 
period of the Commonwealth the subject of exact and 
familiar history. Whereas poetry delights in the vague 
and the shadowy, in an uncertain light, and a distant 
horizon, where its figures may loom. 

Our origin as a separate people presents this con- 
trast to that of most others: that, whereas they have to 
deduce their early history from poetry; we have to re- 
verse the process, and to work the former into the latter, 



D PREFACE. 

if we would present the one under the beautiful aspect 
of the other. From rhapsodies and runes, lays and 
legends, and those other forms which poetry assumes, 
whether concealed under hieroglyphics, murmuring from 
ruins, or towering in imperishable monuments, the pa- 
tient historians of the old world have deduced the pro- 
bable beginnings of its renowned nations. But the poets 
of America who would select for their themes the events 
and actors dearest to their country and themselves, must 
work into their fairy fabrics resolves of congresses, re- 
ports of officers, and the rigid narratives of actual obser- 
vers, and yet represent truly every scene described, and 
every hero portrayed ; for our hearts will not endure 
that truths so precious should be deformed with fable, 
or that persons so beloved should be presented under 
any other than their own familiar aspects. The reflect- 
ing reader will acknowledge that this is a difficulty not 
easily surmounted ; and in the diffidence of a first effort, 
I have endeavored to lighten it, by selecting for my sub- 
ject a portiori of the war whose theatre was remote 
from the common highways of our business and plea- 
sure, and which, though very important and glorious in 
itself, has not been rendered familiar to the public by 
the works of any artist. None of the heroes of King's 
Mountain, or the Cowpens, who so fatally crippled the 
army of Cornwallis ; none of those who conducted the 
famous retreat before him from Catawba to the Dan, 
none, in short, of all those whose efforts saved the 
South, and with it, the Confederacy, appear even amid 
those 'magnificent groupings of Trumbull, which ^dorn 



PREFACE. 7 

the Capitol, except Morgan, Williams, and Howard ; 
and the two latter merely as spectators in a scene of 
peace. This, then, is an additional reason why an at- 
tempt to render this meritorious portion of their bene- 
factors more familiar to the fancies of my countrymen 
should be kindly received by them. 

Nor is the scenery amid which these operations were 
conducted without strong attractions to minds occupied 
with poetry. The ranges of the Alleghany form a 
grand back ground for any picture which would portray 
them; and the rivers which flow from those m\d re- 
cesses were magnificent actors in the scene. Besides, 
the mountain legends, scanty as they are, afford some 
color to fictions which may happily blend them with the 
historic incidents which illustrate that region ; and it 
would be uncandid in me not to add, that the accidents 
of birth and fortune tended to endear to me the scene 
and subject I have chosen. 

But it may be asked, what, after all, is the use of 
having any portion of our history wrought into poetry? 
Without entering into a discussion about the uses of 
poetry, I may briefly vindicate my labors by answering, 
because the most attractive and impressive form in which 
truth can be exhibited, is that of poetry; and few will 
deny that it is highly beneficial that all useful knowledge 
should be imparted under its fairest and most persuasive 
aspect. Hence it is that the greatest teachers, human and 
divine, have conveyed their instructions in the most im- 
pressive forms of speech. Witness the great classics of 
antiquity, and Moses, David, and the Prophets. The 



8 PREFACE. 

discourses of our Saviour himself are full of the spirit of 
poetry, and assumed as much of its form as was appro- 
priate to oral teaching. His sermon on the Mount 
commences like a psalm — " Blessed T' ^^ Blessed !" 
^^ Blessed !" ringing along the opening sentences, and 
succeeded by the exclamations, '' Rejoice and be ex- 
ceeding glad !" " Ye are the salt of the earth !" ^^ Ye 
are the light of the world !" The reader of the gospels 
must be struck throughout with the tendency of the 
divine spirit to manifest itself in the shapes of poetry, 
from the moment of its " descending like a dove ;" and 
it seemed good to the Allwise, that what Christians, at 
least, must deem the most important of all truths, should 
be announced, not in the distinct homeliness of prose, 
but in the figurative beauty of poetry, ^^ Behold the 
Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the w^orld !" 
And all this is in perfect keeping with the revelations 
which the Creator has made of himself in his undoubted 
works ; and thus tends to render equally undoubted his 
word — both being full alike of beauty and glory, the 
soul and the crown of poetry. 

I trust no one will imagine any of the preceding re- 
marks designed to deprecate criticism, or that I deem it 
either possible or desirable that any work of art should 
ultimately stand on any thing but its intrinsic merits. 
But American literature labors under so many disad- 
vantages, that the ablest advocacy of any specimen of 
it, would yet fail to give it a fair chance of success. In 
the first place, it has to contend against all the dispar- 
agement thrown upon it by the legislation of the coun- 



PREFACE. . 9 

try, which deems it too insignificant to protect — nay, 
which casts upon it the reproach which attends our laws 
for affording no protection to the property of foreign 
authors. For the argument to justify the refusal to es- 
tablish international copyright is, that reading has become 
an intellectual necessary of life, which cannot be sup- 
plied by the home production ; and, therefore, our citi- 
zens must be permitted to pirate it from abroad. No 
other view of the subject can even palhate the conduct 
of Congress, in breaking in upon and severing the great 
community of letters, which has heretofore been deemed 
one republic, and committing the peculiarly odious in- 
justice of refusing the benefit of equitable legislation to 
those exalted and honored intellects devoted to giving 
them light and joy.* 



* I have not yet seen the reasons upon which the committee of 
the Senate rest the refusal, it has already announced, to report in 
favor of international copyright. It is to be hoped they will be 
.stronger than any which I can imagine. The committee must re- 
member that a report " for Buncomb" will not answer in this case. 
They are the priests of Apollo with whom they \v\\\ have to deal. 
Lat them recollect the fate of those to whom long ago were in vam 
extended in supplication "the sceptre and the laurel crown." Let 
them imagine that the world hears again the words of Cryses : 

** If prayers may not, O let these presents move, 
And dread avenging Phoebus, son of Jove !" 

Let them remember that it was not with impunity that his prayer 
was rejected — 

Astvn Sf K^ayyii yivir a^yvqioio ^loto. 
Dire was the clangor of the silver bow. 

And they too may find that their rejection of the prayers of the 
2 



10 PREFACE. 

Secondly. Tn every other country the booksellers and 
publishers are the natural allies and patrons of its au- 
thors ; but here it is the reverse. The interests of the 
former are certainly indifferent, if not opposed to the 
latter; for it is impossible to have a class of good 
laborers in any vocation who are not adequately paid. 
There are some idle talkers who rant about genius find- 
ing its true reward in its own exercise and achievements, 
and not in filthy lucre. And they might with equal 
reason upbraid a florist for manuring his favorite rose ; 
and tell him that the divine flower gets its beauty and 
fragrance from the beam and breath of spring, and not 
from his offensive dirt. 'Tis true, thank God ! that 
the highest exercise of the highest faculties affords a 
pleasure, perhaps superior to all others, and certainly 
such as nothing else can bestow. But the misery of it 
is, that unless something else be bestowed from some 
(juarter or other, those highest faculties can have but 
little opportunity for their highest exercise. They must 
be applied to the homelier efforts of acquiring or pre- 
serving the means of subsistence, hospitality, elegance. 
Who ever heard of an amateur that was really eminent 
in any thing? Who supposes that intellectual gifts are 
so distributed that idle hours may produce the fruits of 
lives of labor? Homer, Shakspeare, Milton, wrote for 
their bread. Demosthenes, Cicero, Chatham, Henry, 



gifted ones of the world, who come with their presents of so many 
precious works, will be followed by plague spots on their memoriest 
whose taint will extend to their country. 



PREFACE., 11 

devoted their lives to eloquence. Phidias, Michael An- 
gelo, Raphael, lived in their studios. Washington stu- 
died and practised arms and politics from his youth ; and 
Napoleon from his boyhood. But, though there may be 
a few rare instances, where short and sudden efforts of 
genius' may accomplish much, who can expect to find 
the possessors of it numerous enough to sustain the lite- 
rature of a country ? Its laborers, as in all other avo- 
cations, will be found, both in numbers and ability, to 
bear a well fixed proportion to their pecuniary reward ; 
and as the booksellers of a country are the paymasters 
in this case, it must be to their interest to cherish a 
literature which costs them nothing, and to depress that 
which might otherwise become its rival and diminish its 
profits. That they publish sometimes at their own risk 
is true ; but that must be when the profitableness of the 
operation is pretty apparent, or to give their workiiien 
employment, and thus keep them together, nt the risk 
of a small loss ; or from public spirit, which no class in 
this country is wholly without. 

A third obstacle to the success of a book truly nation- 
al — that is, whose author and subject are both of this 
country — is the alienation of the public literary taste 
from domestic themes, imagery, sentiments, by reason of 
its almost total occupation with foreign literature. To 
appreciate properly the force of this obstacle let any 
one turn to the best specimen of Chinese poetry he can 
lay his hand on; and he will find it addressed to tastes, 
sentiments, and associations of ideas so different from his 
own, that the literary delights of the celestial empire 



12 PRDFACE. 

will seem absurd and ridiculous to him. Even the bible, 
familiar as we are made with it from our cradles, often 
impresses us with the necessity of a very different train- 
ing from that given to our imaginations, if we would 
appreciate properly such of its poeriy as is most pecu- 
liarly oriental. "Thy hair is like a flock of goats that 
appear from Gilead." " Thy teeth are as a flock of 
sheep that go up from the shearing, whereof every one 
beareth twins, and there is not one barren among them." 
** Thy neck is as a tower of ivory ; thine eyes like the 
fish-pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-ribbim: thy 
nose is as the tower of Lebanon, which looketh toward 
Damascus." Who among us has yet learned to be 
pleased with these descriptions of female beauty, though 
they be from the " Song of Songs, which is Solomon's." 
To come to nearer times and nations, analogous re- 
flections v/ill account for the little value reciprocally 
set by the French and English on each other's poetry. 
Voltaire ridiculed Shakspeare ; and Byron denounced 
the whole mass of French poetry as " that whetstone 
of the teeth, monotony on wire." Hence the English 
speak of the two natures, human nature and French 
nature; and no doubt their Gallican neighboj-s recipro- 
cate the compliment. To come nearer home, I may 
mention an instance in my own experience, and proba- 
bly that of many of my readers (if indeed I shall have 
many), where the progress of one's knowledge operates 
on his imagination. When I first read of General Davie, 
I bewailed his name. I could associate it with nothing 
but " dainty Davie," and " down the burn Davie love," 



PREFACE. 13 

and others of the pretty little pastoral songs of Scot- 
land. But when I became familiar with the exploits oi 
WiUiam Richardson Davie, and learned that amid the 
dismay which followed Gates's defeat at Camden, he 
expended the last dollar of an estate left him by his 
maternal uncle, in equipping and mounting a corps to 
make head against the devastating invaders, and per- 
formed with it prodigies of valor; when I dwelt upon 
his surprise of the snemy at Warhab's, his defence oi 
Charlotte, his turning from the laurels which he loved, 
to the country he bved more, and serving her where 
he might be more useful, though less renowned ; when 
I afterwards traced his civil career, and became ac- 
quainted with his love of letters and his zeal in promo- 
ting learning, the little pastoral associations vanished 
from his name, and it gradually assumed the dignity of 
that great one of Israel, from which it is corrupted, and 
which was rendered so illustrious by the hero of the 
sling and of the harp, the conqueror of Goliah and the 
soother of Saul. Yet fearing that some reader might 
have my old diminishing associations with it, I felt 
obliged upon my first introduction of it to crowd it up 
with others, and invoke even a jingle to relieve its in- 
significancy. 

The process of reasoning, here merely suggested, will 
also serve to explain why a poet, whose genius is pecu- 
liar and topics novel, is often, at first, the object of ridi- 
cule, and at last, of idolatry ; as has actually happened 
to Mr. Wordsworth. For the public imagination did 
not know, at first, how to appreciate the. treasures he 
2* 



14 PREFACE. 

presented to it ; while the critics, (so many of whom we 
see typified in cats, which steal upon sleeping mocking- 
birds, and fill with Orpheuses maws, whose legitimate 
food is mice,) ambitious mousers, are always ready to 
pounce upon the weak moments of the divinest geniuses, 
and destroy them with the fangs of that ridicule which 
makes such delightful sport for the grinning million. 
But the true enthusiasts cannot be deterred from drink- 
ing at their sweet fountains. The crowd soon begin to 
sip of draughts which they see inspiring such pure joy, 
and gradually join in homage to the prophet at whose 
bidding they gushed from the rock ; and there he now 
sits, the divine Wordsworth, veiled in the roses of his 
Kydal Mount, the beloved and the lover of mankind. 

These suggestions, (for I have not space for more than 
mere suggestions,) w^ill convince the reflecting reader 
that a certain preparation of the public mind is necessa- 
ry to the cordial reception of any work of art. If what 
Shakspeare says of a jest be true, viz : that its prospe- 
rity lies in the ear of the hearer ; much more so is it, 
that the prosperity of a poem lies in the mind of the 
reader. If that be preoccupied with ideas, associations, 
preferences, entirely different from the work presented, 
he will turn away from it, at first, however excellent, as 
some frantic lover of a '^ brow of Egypt" might from 
^'Helen's beauty." The foreign literature with which 
the mind of the reading public is chiefly occupied, has 
enamored it of the crowds and grandeurs of the old 
world, ^ the wonders of its arts, its arms, its opulence, its 
romance, its history. Our national themes present ima- 



PREFACE. 15 

gery and sentiment very different, and such as, however 
endeared to the every day life of our people, they are 
not accustomed to look for amid the recreations they 
may seek in the fine arts. Therefore an American poet, 
who treats a national subject, has always before his eyes 
to chill~ his ardor, the neglect of his legislature, the re- 
luctance of his publishers, and the indifference of his 
readers. Is it then surprising that American genius, 
which is so prominent in other departments, should have 
contributed so little to literature ? Is it not rather to be 
wondered at, that the genus irritabile vatum, the sensi- 
tive bosoms of poets, should ever encounter all these bar- 
riers of ice, for the sake of any sunshine of favor they 
may hope to find beyond them ? I trust, then, I may be 
excused for attempting to soften the last, as I approach 
it, chilled as I am by the influence of the first, and frozen 
as I expect to be in my struggles with the second."^ 

THE AUTHOR. 

United States, July 26th, 1842. 



* It is but justice to the publisher of this to say, that the appre- 
hension last expressed was at once removed by his liberality and 
public spirit. 



INTRODUCTION 



TO 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



INTRODUCTION 



I ROAMED, when Fall to roam beguiles, 
Amid remote Virginian wilds. 
There where her Alleghanies rise 
The highest in the bluest skies, 
And ridge with ridge so close unites, 
They push their valleys up their heights. 
Which thus with streams of diamond drops 
Wind picturesquely round their tops, 
And, interweaving mountains, go 
Wide spreading to a vast plateau. 
From that high mass of ridge-webbed plain 
Is stretched the beauteous Blue Ridge chain, 
Which from the parent mountain swings, 
Where rise the Dan's unnumbered springs. 

Not far from these the fountains gleam. 
Which swell Kanawha's rushing stream, 
And more transparent flow than any 
That sparkle on the Alleghany. 

O'er all the wooded summits there 
The Buffalo knob looms hidi and bare, 



20 INTRODUCTION TO 

Its crest a rock enormous, hurled 
Thither v/hen earthquakes heaved the world. 
Its Northern steeps with wilds are hung, 
In which the she wolf hides her young, 
And in their crag3, with shrubbery filled. 
Their rugged nests the ravens build. 

Less steep descend its Southern woods, 
But hiss their caves with serpent broods. 
And the first sun-beams of the spring 
Out on the rocks the reptiles bring, 
And from their rattles whizzes shrill 
The signal of the blows that kill. 

Up-towers from these hideous sides, 
It's brow high as the storm-cloud rides, 
And 'gainst the Western tempest's shock 
Frowns in a precipice of rock. 
In this, its legends if we heed. 
The golden eagle used to breed- 
Bird of the sun, his plumage gleams 
So richly with the solar beams, 
'Twould seem he brings the lustrous dye 
Back from his soarings to the sky. 

But gently to the East decline 
Its summits in a waving line, 
Pursuing which, a deer path yields 
Good guidance to its lofty fields, 
And by that trace with easy tread 
The hunter climbs the mountain's head. 

vOn the first bench below its height 
A trace of ruin greets the sight. 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 21 

Some rugged stones together laid, 
Seem as of yore a hearth they made ; 
The sunny spot of earth around 
Looks as if once 'twas garden ground. 
And the young trees an aspect wear 
Which says the hand of man was there. 
But fires too oft those forests sweep 
For time such frail records to keep ; 
Yet legends of the mountain tell 
Of one who, chief and sentinel. 
Did there a lonely watch-tower seek 
For those below on Tory Creek ; 
A glittering stream, which took its name 
From some who fled from sword and flame. 
Before the forces of the king 
Aid to the loyalists could bring, 
Whose settlements were on and near 
The upper branches of Cape Fear. 

While gathering from the mountaineers 
These fading tales of faded years, 
Across our path, as white as snow 
Flashed through the shade a startled doe. 
No gun was levelled at the sight. 
To stop the beauty in her flight. 
Though there were rifles at whose cracks 
The deer dropped often in their tracks, 
And held by hands well used to bring 
To earth the raven on the wing. 



22 INTRODUCTION TO 

But more than one cried : ^^ Let her go ! 
There's no mistake about the doe ; 
Swift as she flies, see yonder plain 
Upon her neck the bloody stain ! 
And never yet did luck betide 
The rifle levelled at her side !" 

This strange exclaim and stranger pause 
Engaged me much to learn their cause. 
Then a vague story did they tell 
Of one that on the knob did dwell, 
Whose daughter looked in the rude wild 
Of heaven more than earth a child, 
And whereso'er her footsteps strayed 
A doe still frolicked round the maid. 
But war at length its flag unfurled 
In these recesses of the world ;; . 
The dwellers of the lonely wood 
Then vanished in a scene of blood ; 
The petted doe remained forlorn, 
But soon the mother of a fawn, 
Whose startled look and color white 
Came from the gentle parent's fright. 
The time she got the bloody speck 
Pictured on her descendant's neck ; 
Since then the mountain hunters know 
Naught of the Maiden of the Doe. 

Much mused I on the legend wild, 
And much on beauty's lonely child, 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 23 

And on the ways of Providence, 
Their mystery and benevolence. 
Do torrents tear the mountain's side ? 
Soon flowering vines the ravage hide — 
Rent is a heart by fortune's blow ? 
Pity and love their balm bestow — 
Fades from the rugged wild a maid, 
The sunbeam of its sombre shade ? 
Mysterious influences bestow 
A charm upon a mountain doe, 
Which flashes through the wilderness 
Gleams of the vanished loveliness ; 
And huntsmen as she glances by 
See woman's magic in her eye. 
And in her tint and footstep trace 
A maiden's purity and grace, 
And thus preserve, by fancy's aid, 
The lady tenant of the shade. 

Muse of the wild, let me prolong 
Her memory in embalming song — 
My guide through many a mountain wood, 
Sweet solacer of solitude. 
Give me to sincj for others weal 
What thou didst teach to see and feel, 
While I the fortunes sought to know 
Of the lone Maiden of the Doe. 



THE MAID OF THE DOE, 



CANTO FIRST 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



CANTO FIRST. 



THE CAPTIVES. 

I. 

October's sun, in golden vest, 

Hangs o'er the mountains of the west. 

Gilding with long and lustrous streaks 

A. sea of ridges wild and peaks. 

Weil those who view it may believe 

That earth did erst with ocean heave, 

And stood the instant fixed, it heard 

The sound of that omnific word, 

Which bade the mountains show their heads, 

And called the oceans to their beds. 

II. 

The clouds above, in evening's glow, 
Hang mimicking the realm below : 
In gold and crimson's various tinge, 
The distant shadowy heights they fringe^ 



28 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto I 

With such harmonious hues, the eye 
Scarce knows the mountains from the sky. 

III. 

But not to view the gorgeous scene, 

Doth yonder lonely gazer lean 

Against the Buffalo's rocky crest. 

Scarce hath he glanced upon the west, 

But sighing oft, his eye he strains 

Far o'er the Carolinian plains. 

Which from his watch-tower stretch to view, 

As ocean wide, as ocean blue. 

Just to his left the sun's last streaks 

Are gilding Otter's beauteous peaks, 

But yet he turns not to behold 

Their shadowy azure touched with gold. 

His dreamy eye with gaze intent 

On the House Mountain still is bent, 

A single link cast from its chain 

Upon the Carolinian plain. 

On which a natural structure stands, 

Shaped like the works of human hands, 

And on the hill a name bestows. 

And guides the wanderer as he goes. 

IV. 

When the last beams of fading day 
Were trembling on his locks of gray^ 
And o'er the object of his sight 
Was gathering fast the veil of night, 
. Words mingled with his sighs of pain — 
'' Alas I" he cried, *' I watch in vain !" 



Canto L MAID OF THE DOE. 29 

Nor further spoke, but downward strode 
To seek the deer-path, now his road. 
Silent he went, with solemn pace, 
Soon gliding through the naked space, 
Which, mid the shadows of the night 
Gleamed out, a little field of light. 
But now his narrow way descends 
Where thick the forest shade extends, 
And leaf on leaf new-fallen hath 
Dimmer and dimmer made his path. 
As slow he picked his way along, 
The bird of evening* ceased his song ; 
The golden eagle from on high 
Wheeled down as darkness climbed the sky ; 
The raven, from his sable throat, 
Sounded his homeward gathering note — 
Silence came o'er the tribes of day, 
And left the earth to night's drear sway. 

V. 

First signal of her reign, was heard 
The hooting of her solemn bird. 
Next howls from wild and dismal dell, 
The wolf, her other sentinel. 
Aroused by these, the foxes bark, 
The bear more hideous makes the dark, 
The wild-cat steals to seek her food, 
The deer g^lide timid throuorh the wood, 



* The inhabitants of tho region described, call the wood-thrttfih, 
wood-robin, or wood-lark, the evening-bird- 
3* 



30 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto 1. 

And fell and shrill upon the gale, 
Rings out the panther's startling wail 

VI. 

The night wind, in its solemn song. 
Successive bore these sounds along, 
But the sad wanderer of the dark 
Seemed their wild cadences to mark, 
No more than lately did his eye 
The glories of the earth and sky. 
His dog their terrors seemed to know. 
Nor far would from his master go. 
The latter sauntered as before, 
Scarce conscious of the arms he wore. 
The rifle in his hand not feh, 
More than the dagger in his belt. 

VIL 

But now a light gleams through the dark — 
He hears a dog's announcing bark, 
xlnd sees upon the tree tops glow, 
The blaze of his rude hearth below. 
Not with glad hand he opes his door, 
But sighs to touch his cabin floor, 
Though then a voice of sweetness said, 
'' Methinks it is my father's tread ;" 
And she who breathed the silver sound 
Sprung to his breast w^ith joyous bound, 
And playful questioned why he strayed 
So late beneath the evening shade — 
Did he not hear the wolf's long howl ? 
Did he not hear the bear's short growl ? 



Canto I MAID OF THE DOE. 31 

Amid caresses and demands, 
She from his shoulders and his hands 
Took pouch and gun, and hung or laid 
Each on a rack, of antlers made. 
With fondling hand and accent sweet, 
Next did his dog her kindness greet, 
Whose quickened breath and gazing eye 
Gave from his beating heait reply. 

VIII. 

Another angel look the while 
Gazed on the sire with deeper smile, 
Whose love and light together veiled 
Whate'er her anxious heart assailed. 
Time's touches on that placid face. 
Seemed but to hallow with their trace, 
And beauty's light had faded on her, 
But as on Guido's mild Madonna. 
Yet not its look of sweetness seemed 
To smooth the brow on which it beamed, ' 
But first a sigh his silence broke. 
And thus his discontent he spoke. 

IX. 

" The die is cast ! This savage wild 

Must hold my darling wife and child. 

Through all the horrors winter's snow 

Around the solitude will throw. 

I watched till scarce my aching eyes 

Could see the Carolinian skies, 

But from our beacon mountain there. 

No signal curled aloft in air : 



32 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto I. 

No wreathing smoke's ascending line 
Gave to my view the appointed sign — 
And this, alas ! the latest day 
That I could hope for its display. 
The king's advisers turn his arms 
To keep their Northern friends from harms, 
While the poor South is left to feel 
The rage of rebel fire and steel. ^ 

Our plundered wealth rebellion feasts, 
While we must shelter with wild beasts. 
This wretched hut, this howling wood, 
This hideous mountain solitude 
Must hold, as frightened beasts of chase, 
Those who a noble's hall might grace, 
And through whose veins the life-drops run 
From the high race of Hamihon. 
O had my father rather tilled 
In poverty his Highland field, 
Or drawn subsistence from the seas 
That wash the sterile Hebrides, 
Than sought to gather golden stores 
On this new world's plebeian shores ! 
There might our lives have reached their goal, 
Rich in the treasures of the soul, 
And, with our faith untempted left. 
Of country, home, nor king bereft, 
Our hearts in gratitude might own, 
* Man doth not live by bread alone.' 
But here — yet oh ! why need I tell 
Of woes my loved ones know too well ? 
And which my hand should try to heal, 
^ And not my tongue to make them feel." 



Canto L MAID OF THE DOE. 33 

X. 

** And do you not devote your life 
To bless our lot?" replied his wife. 
** Why are you buried in this wild, 
But me to shelter and your child ? 
O but for us you now might be 
Among the royal chivalry, 
Or at your natal hearth afford 
tv To trust your safety to your sword. 

But that our daughter might remain 
Beyond the fear of hostile stain, 
And yet your arm be not too far 
To serve when needed in the war, 
You sought the shelter of this wild. 
To keep your treasures undefiled — 
Obedient still, with heart and hand 
To love and honor's high command. 
Grieve not if in such holy cause, 
The service suffering with it draws. 
fe there a realm where mortal sees 
The path of duty spread with ease ? 
Is't not enough if this we climb 
Is safe, and hath its views sublime? 
Think you that winter blasts will freeze 
Here worse than in the Hebrides ? 
That here the driving snow-storm chills 
More than on Scotland's woodless hills? 
And O that land hath many a time 
Been reddened with disloyal crime, 
And the last Stuart that touched her soil 
Fled from the sword of civil broil, 



34 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto I 

And hid in huts his royal brow, 
Humbler than this which holds us now. 
But O why mention earthly kings 
As having known our sufferings, 
When He, the king of heaven and earthy 
While linked for us to mortal birth. 
Endured far more than our distress,. 
A wanderer in the wilderness, 
And when from persecution fled, 
Had oft nowhere to lay his head. 
My husbandj thank Him for the good 
He gives us in this solitude, 
Nor deem a lot too hard to bear, 
Which you see us contented share." 

XL 

*' Indeed we do, my father !" said 
Caressingly the lovely maid, 
**And can you call our house a hut ? 
I know it is a cabin, but 
A very nice one, with wings too, 
And no one can deny 'tis new. 
Observe how well the cheerful blaze 
The room and furniture displays. 
The furs came home to day; and see 
How richly spread is our settee. 
Is not the warm fur of the bear 
Better than icy woven hair? 
Behold your chair — the panther's skin 
Makes it delightful to loll in. 
And, see, for curtains with what pride 
I have arranged the blue deer's hide. 



Canto I MAID OF THE DOE. 35 

And. lo ! there linger on the year 
Some flowers yet our cot to cheer, 
And berries by the crystal flood 
That grow, the corals of the wood, 
I gathered in my morning roam 
All these to decorate our home, 
And, father, I must say this room 
Wears nothing like an air of gloom." 

XIL 

Who could such truth and fondness hear, 
From those so beautiful and dear. 
Nor findj whatever grief he felt, 
Before their soft enchantment melt? 
When gathered to their evening meal, 
His heart more than resigned did feel, 
And in their smiles and generous fare, 
Forgot its weight of wasting care. 
A gleam of joy his evening closed, 
And sleep profound his soul composed- 
Sleep that in each diurnal span 
Levels the fates of beast and man. 

XIII 

The morning in the vales below, 

Beamed on a frost as white as snow. 

But not the icy veil was spread 

As yet upon the mountain's head. 

Though the chill breath of night and morn, 

Announced the winter hastening on. 

Too plainly to admit delay 

In guarding 'gainst his stormy day. 



36 MAID OF THE DOE. Canio I. 

XIV. 

The sylvan spot, their present care, 
Seemed like an islet of the air, 
So high the little nook of ground, 
So severed from the realm around. 
But yet, within an hour's walk. 
Was spread, along the Laurel Fork, 
And up the edge of Tory Creek, 
Deep sheltered in the mountains bleak, 
A recent settlement of those 
Fled like themselves from vengeful foes. 
Beside the streams the fertile plain 
Produced in plenty grass and grain, 
And nowhere else is better found, 
The mealy apple of the ground. 
The crystal waters turned the wheel, 
Which kept the neighborhood in meal ; 
And thus what man essential deems 
To comfort, gathered to the streams. 

XV. 

The people of this snug resort, 

Were chiefly of the humbler sort, 

And several had been tenants on 

The wide domain of Hamilton, 

Whom long before he hither sent 

To make this mountain settlement. 

He too had fixed his cabin there. 

But did not choose his daughter fair 

Should have companionship so rude, > 

To taint her budding womanhood. 



Canto I. MAID OF THE DOE. 37 

Therefore, and that his temper high 
Brooked not to have the crowd too nigh, 
He, like the eagle, built his nest 
Contiguous to the mountain's crest ; 
A name for which his followers search 
Not long, but call it Eagle's Perch. 
There, while the summer spread its shade, 
He gladdened in the choice he made. 
The little level space around 
The cabin gave him garden ground, 
And at its edge a crystal spring 
Soothed with perpetual murmuring. 
Though strange it seem, 'tis true, that where 
The very summit shoots in air. 
Around the rock that crowns its brow, 
The garden fruits spontaneous grow, 
Currents and gooseberries and cherries, 
Wild apples, grapes, and service-berries. 
These formed the edging of a fieldj 
Which might convenient pasture yield. 
Here might his lonely daughter stray, 
And with her fawn securely play; 
And, hearing the familiar notes 
Breathed from the many house-birds' throats, 
Attracted by the sunny space, 
And garden berries at the place ; 
And seeing in the distance too 
Her native plain expand to view, 
He trusted she might find the wild 
Of that oppressiveness beguiled. 
With which obstructing hills appall 
The spirit like a prison wall, 
4 



38 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto I 

And make the vale in which we dwell 
Seem almost like a dmigeon cell. 



XVI. 

But shall they brave the winter's snow 
So near that loftiest mountain's brow? 
May not its drifts tremendous come, 
And bury up their humble home ? 
Besides, 'twas distant from the mill. 
And hard to climb the icy hill ; 
Nor then the desolated wood 
Could yield a single cow her food ; 
And 'twas a steep and rugged way 
To bring so far supplies of hay. 

XVII. 

On t'other hand, to those whose strife 
Is with the daily wants of life, 
To build a house, the humblest one. 
Is not a thing so easily done. 
It takes the sunny summer's day 
To dry the mass of chinking clay, 
And time and trouble both it costs 
To work such masonry through frosts. 
T'were better both should be bestowed 
To build them shelters, mend their road, 
And gather from the swamp and wood 
Pea- vine and grass for winter-food. 
For such few stock as they must keep ; 
The rest misfht winter on the creek. 



Canto I MAID OF THE DOE. ^9 

XVIIL 

As to alarms from drifting snow. 
The trees around their house that grow, 
No token gave of crushing storms 
In their erect, majestic forms, 
Whose arms for centuries had swung 
In the loud tempests as they sung. 
Upon the towering ridge the trees. 
Which met the brunt of winter's breeze, 
In ragged boughs and state downcast, 
Told of the ravage of the blast. 
But theirs, a snug and sunny nook, 
Uprooting winds had never struck, 
But hung below the mountain's crest, 
A coigne of vantage for a nest. 

XIX. 

Besides, whate'er employs their care 
Soon grows to human bosoms dear. 
That spot, their choice in all the wild. 
Won on the parents and the child. 
Harmonious to their fancies grown, 
These gave it beauties not its own. 
The favorite flowers the maiden brought 
From home when first the wild she sought, 
Gained charms beyond what nature lent: 
Companion of her banishment, 
The^ monthly rose, with blooming cheek. 
Looked in her face as if 'twould speak : 
The honey-suckle's coral bell 
Had of past days its tale to tell : 



40 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto L 

The pansy, purple velvet leaved. 
Helped memory in the sweets it weaved: 
And many a soft historiette 
Breathed in the delicate mignonette. 
These on the cabin's sunny side 
Had yet the autumnal frost defied, 
And, by her care, their bloom might glow 
Upon the winter's early snow. 

XX. 

The birds had learned to feel secure 
In feeding near the cabin door ; 
The sparrow chirped to find his crumb. 
The robin hopped to seek his worm, 
The blue-bird, with his sky-dipt coat, 
Welcomed the morn with gladsome note, 
And in the alders by the spring 
The tufted red-bird loved to &ing. 
Not a mere summer friend, the snow 
Keflects his bosom's crimson glow, 
Bravely he chirps through dreary storms. 
And ever as the sun-beam warms 
The bank he loves, awakes a strain, 
Which whispers spring will come again. 
These soft adornments lent a grace 
Which made them partial to the place, 
And they will not, though lone and bleak. 
Exchange the mountain for the creek. 

XXI. 

" Well," said the husband, " since, my dear. 
It is resolved to winter here, 



Canto I MAID OF THE DOE. 41 

The next thing to decide is what 
Must be henceforth the prisoner's lot. 
You say his wound is nearly healed, 
And that his spirit will not yield 
Longer to stay upon parol 
Than until you pronounce him whole. 
Well, if his pride will have it so, 
He must again a prisoner go 
Back to the place from which your care 
Removed, that you might nurse him here. 
'Twill grieve me, for 'twill touch your heart, 
I know, to see him thus depart: 
And rebel though he be, I own ' 

He is, at least, a gallant one : 
And much it grates me that a chain 
Should gall a lim.b of gentle strain. 
I'll seek his presence ; bosoms steeled 
'Gainst harshness, oft to kindness yield. 
And if it please him, he shall know- 
In Hamilton a generous foe." 

XXII. 

This said, he sought a hut hard by. 
Where the lone captive breathed his sigh — 
His sigh that cruel fate withheld 
His sword from many a battle-field. 
Where his companions late in arms 
Were wooing honor's dazzling charms. 
Months, which to him seemed years, had passed 
Since flashed that sword in battle last. 
And that was the disastrous day 
When, w^ounded and o'erthrown, he lay 
4# 



42 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto L 

Encumbered with his slaughtered horse. 
And yielded to resistless force. 
Rude leech-craft to his wounds applied. 
His journey to the mountain side, 
Fever, which pain and sorrow gave. 
Had almost brought him to the grave. 
Then did his present hostess seek 
The sufferer's prison on the creek, 
Removed him in a litter here^ 
And nurtured him with tender care. 

XXHL 

With his effects were brought along 

A volume of Homeric song, 

And now the immortal page he read 

Where Agamemnon, Diomed, 

And Ithacus, the wounded three, 

Went forth the battling hosts to see : 

For yet their skill and presence might 

Direct and animate the fight. 

Charmed with the world-enchanting strain. 

His soul forgot corroding pain, 

When Hamilton approaching, broke 

On his rapt mood and gently spoke. 

XXIV. 

^* Lieutenant Laurens, I have sought 
Your presence, by those feelings brought 
With which the soldier's breast should glow 
Towards an honorable foe. 
Thee such I deem ; and therefore pray, 
A prisoner you consent to stay, 



Canto L MAID OF THE DOE, 43 

Where'er on mountain ridge or dell 

You please to fix a place to dwell. 

With liberty at will to roam 

A full day's journey from your home : 

In all things else as uncontrolled 

As prisoners of war paroled. 

This hut, where fortune late hath thrown 

Your lot, I beg you, deem your own: 

And what my humble home and stores 

Can offer, is as freely yours." 

XXV. 

No vacillation marked his eye 
As the young soldier made reply — 
" Sir, since I cannot yield consent 
To what's so fairly said and meant. 
To vindicate my course will be 
The due, at least, of courtesy. 
Then hear, while frankly I impart 
The wrong which rankles in my heart. 
And you yourself shall judgment give. 
If those who but for honor live 
Can, while such wrong is unredressed. 
To truce or treaty yield their breast. 
Sent to the South, not more to bear 
Dispatches to our leaders there, 
Than for my failing health to inhale 
The balm upon her healing gale, 
I was, my herald's duty done, 
Returning to my martial one. 
In my ow^n land, where peace abode. 
If any where, methought I rode : 



44 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto I 

And, save a strippling at my side, 
Not dreaming harm, alone did ride. 
He, but a bugler of the corps, 
No sabre at his girdle wore. 
Too young to wield a sword in fight, 
But yet the bivouac's delight, 
He was, to spare his tender age. 
Sent on this journey as my page. 
This little gleam of peaceful life 
Amid dark years of bloody strife, 
We were enjoying. Like the birds, 
My young companion chirped his words. 
Enchanted with the pretty glade 
In which was fixed your ambuscade. 
Our hearts in peace and gladness sung, 
When out your murderous voUies rung ; 
Our horses killed, ourselves near slain, 
Lived but to wear the captive's chain ; 
And wear it too without the hope 
Whose beams to other captives ope. 
That we, released by fair exchange, 
' In glory's fields again might range : 
But doomed as hostages to pine. 
To shield from dang-er thee and thine. 
I know the ills which soldiers brave — 
Defeat, captivity, the grave. 
These to confront with cheerful heart 
I know too is the soldier's part, 
Who should misfortune calmly bear. 
As modestly the laurel wear. 
But when a captor would impose 
Conditions war no iono^er knows — 



Ca?ito I. MAID OF THE DOE. 45 

When his demands would have me give 
Myself a hostage tame to live. — 
All chance, all hope, for aye to yield 
To serve my country in the field, 
And from her troops myself displant. 
He asks what honor cannot grant, 
And therefore, amongst noble foes, 
What honor never should propose ; 
For can his breast be free from blame 
Who would another lure to shame?" 

XXV I. 

While thus in calm, determined tone^ 
The youth his fixed resolve made known. 
The other's cheek began to glow. 
And frowns to gather on his brow. 
The offers which he thought had earned 
Him thanks, were as disgraceful spurned^ 
And he himself reproached as for 
Waging dishonorable war. 
Hence anger mixed with wounded pride. 
As to the youth he thus replied. 

XXVIL 

" What! think' st thou that to civil jars 
Belong the rules of foreign wars, 
And that my fame should bear the staia 
Of ills which swell rebellion's train ?- 
My band you deem a bandit horde, 
My own as scarce a soldier's sword; 
But rather let the men whose toil 
Hath filled the realm with civil broil. 



46 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto L 

Whose fell ambition makes them bring 

Their armies 'gainst their lavvful king, 

Bear the reproach of each offence 

That springs from times of violence ; 

And unto us the the honor be 

Of pure unshaken loyalty. 

This to preserve we brave the wrong 

The feeble suffer from the strong. 

Yielding what baser hearts prefer 

To the remorseless plunderer, 

We seek the refuge of this wild, 

To keep our honor undefiled. 

But all cannot this shelter share : 

The spoilers would pursue us here. 

And can you blame, that when we find 

A gage of peace for those behind. 

We should seize on the tempting prey, 

Nor let it easily pass away I 

Your high connections in the land 

Have firm assurance from my hand, 

That as the friends of me and mine 

Find safety, so shalt thou and thine : 

That, though they know not where you are, 

You rest secure beneath my care. 

For this they have the pledge of one 

With faith untarnished as the sun ; 

And this, with what else offered you. 

Is all that duty lets me do." 

XXVIII. 

He turned away, thus having said, 
But sudden at the threshold stayed. 



Canto I, MAID OF THE DOE. 47 

. And looked with an inquiring eye. 
As if the other might reply. 
Observing this, the youth rejoined : 
" I did not seek to change your mind. 
You follow what you deem the best, 
And I the dictates of my breast — 
A breast which cannot let me pause 
In laboring for that noblest cause, 
Which hath, e'er since the world began, 
Inspired the grandest deeds of man. 
In that the vast renown was won 
Which crowns the land of Marathon ; 
'Twas that which gave the brightest bloom 
To glory's wreath on mighty Rome: 
And that confers on England now 
The noblest chaplet of her brow. ' 
What is her best baronial deed % 
Why, that achieved at Runnymede. 
What eloquence of hers hath rung 
The noblest? That from Chatham's tongue, 
Doth not the cause that gilds his words 
Now flash effulgent on our swords ? 
O yes! through all recorded time, 
Still have the generous and sublime 
Wielded their arms and shaped their laws, 
To vindicate that good old cause. 
O'erwhelmed on every other soil, 
It flourished in Britannia's isle. 
Maintained by Hambden's sword and tongue. 
Adorned by Milton's heavenly song, 
Freedom her noblest statue won, 
When these grand shores she lit upon. 



48 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto I 

This vast realm, with its dazzling dome 

Of sky, seemed fashioned for her home ; 

And hither hied, o'er land and sea, 

The votaries of liberty. 

Derived from those who sought this good, 

I boast my Hugonotic blood. 

The spirit which made them depart 

From their fair France, flowed in my heart 

With its first pulse; and as it grew 

In strength, that spirit strengthened too. 

then imagine with what charms 
It wooed me to my country's arms, 
And how my soul imbibed its rule 
At Valley Forge's noble school, 
When to the winter tempest flew 
That banner, which the anxious view 
Of down-trod man was fixed upon, 
With all their hope in Washington. 
Huts rude as this in which we stand, 
Then held the glory of the land 
Village of logs and boards and clay,— 
But doomed to shine with brighter ray 
In song, than Thebes with all her gates, 
The empress of a hundred states ! 

Tn that great school 'twas mine to learn, 
Both what to prize and what to spurn. 

1 learned, in bosoms nobly good, 
That next to God their country stood ; 
That faithful struo-o-les in her cause 
From men and angels won applause : 
That some deeds less renown might claim. 
And yet their merit be the same. 



Canto I MAID OF THE J)OE. 49 

While here I know I cannot ride 
Triumphant through the battle's tide — 
Not with my corps at glory fly — 
That corps, the army's lance and eye. 
The humble task which here must strain 
My prowess, is to break my chain : 
Pity, perhaps, contrivance, gold, 
Fortune, which seldom fails the bold, 
With just success may crown my aim, 
To reach once more the fields of fame. 
And if I perish — let me die. 
Perchance my country, with a sigh, 
May honor one who fell so young 
In striving to redress her wrong. 
And I shall most my fate deplore^ 
Because I could not serve her more." 

XXIX. 

As he pronounced these ardent words 

His face glowed like a demigod's ; . 

Nor when he shed the Python's blood, 

Apollo more majestic stood ; 

Nor spread his brow more nobly fair, 

Nor brighter flowed his curling hair. 

Not Hamilton unmoved could view 

Such conduct high, such courage true, 

But with emotion bade adieu. 

And the young soldier sought again 

Solace in the Maeonian strain. 

XXX. 

Meanwhile the convalescent page 
Confinement bore as birds their cage ; . 



50 MAID OF THE DOE. Ca7iio L 

Blithesome sometimes, he sometimes pined 
To roam unfettered as the wind. 
His care and cure, an humbler work, 
Was left to those upon the fork. 
His keepers often through the da}^ 
Amused him with their children's play; 
And sometimes now, his strength to try. 
He watched with them the deer-stands nigh. 
Where'er these little wanderings led, 
The mighty oaks above him spread, 
Or forest poplar's towering pride. 
Or laurel on the mountain side, 
Or pathless wild, or babbling stream. 
Turned on his home his sad day dream, 
O how he wished the darksome mound, 
Which rose on every side around, 
Could somewhere sink and give to view 
Potomac's wide expanse of blue ! 
Yet soft, though sad, its azure light 
Beamed on his intellectual sight. 
Distinct in memory's eye he sees 
When first it glimmers through the trees, 
As on the wooded path he speeds, 
Which straightest to the river leads. 
Emerging on the open plain, 
He nears the dizzy clifTs again, 
And quick his sparkling eyes explore 
The dwindled groups along the shore 
His bugle sounds its clearest note, 
They cluster to the ready boat, 
^di\\ o'er the waves in sunset dyed, 
While music lulls the slumbering tide. 



Canto L MAID OF THE DOE. 51 

XXXI. 

His father, leader of the strain, 
A wanderer from romantic Spain. 
Led by kind fortune to a door 
That ne'er was closed against the poor, 
Chanced with his music to delight 
The master of the mansion bright. 
Won by the bounties of his hand, 
He quickly joined his music band. 
Married, and children crowned his joy, 
And Carlos Avas his first-born boy. 
As the bright child auspicious grew 
They made him a musician too. 
And 'twas the ladies' pleasing cares, 
Well to instruct his tender years. 
He thus grew like a gentle flower, 
Which, nourished in a lady's bower, 
Imbibes soft fragrance from her sigh, 
And tender radiance from her eye. 

XXXIL 

Though such a pet at such a home. 
He still evinced a taste to roam : 
And when the stirring drum was beat 
To rouse the country's martial heat, 
And he beheld the troopers gay 
Prance on their steeds in proud array. 
He begged he might to battles go 
And for Hussars his bugle blow. 
His patrons kind would not restrain 
An ardor, which perhaps might gain 



52 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto I 

Distinction for his riper age, 
Beyond the station of a page ; 
And though it cost them a soft tear. 
They let him go beneath the care 
Of their young cousin, Harry Lee^ 
A bugler in his cavalry. 
Beside that famous partisan j 
Continual in the army's van, 
He grew adventurous in the fray, 
And in the camp and quarters gay. 
Clear at the charge his bugle rung, 
Blithe at the jolly mess he sung, 
And soon the very darling grew, 
Of officers and soldiers too. 

xxxni. 

And novv by cruel fortune thrown 
A prisoner on the mountains lone^ 
His temper sweet and spirit gay, 
Won to his captors' hearts away. 
They listened with attentive ear, 
His tales of peace and war to hear : 
And he by skilful question drew 
Intelligence of all they knew 
About the posture of affairs. 
Their future hopes, their present cares. 

XXXIV. 

And now his wounds completely cured, 
His health, and almost strength restored. 
He begged permission to attend 
As page, his officer and friend. 



Canto I. 3IAID OF THE DOE. 63 

They said, they grieved he would not stay, 

But to oblige him, would convey 

His wish to their superior, who 

To grant it would be pleased, they knew, 

XXXV. 

He felt, this prospect in his eyes — 
His hope renewed, his spirits rise — 
Lovelier the wild appeared to glow, 
Brighter the mountain stream to flow, 
And every hill and vale was dressed 
In the gay sunshine of his breast. 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



CANTO SECOND, 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



CANTO SECOND. 



THE MAIDEN, 

I. 

O YE of earth who sadly dreanij 
And mourn her hastening to decay, 

I^ok, hath the morning lost a beam 
. That crowned her on creation's day? 

And when, flashed through the warm sun-light, 
Earth's wheeling regions glide in shade ; 

Shine not the wondrous stars as bright 
As on the evening they were made ? 

Doth not the moon still punctual range 

Through every loveliness of change, — 

And still each planet's beauteous face , 

Bespangle her appointed place? 

11. 

Why more degenerate deem the earth 
Than the bright sisters of her birth? 



58 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto II. 

O no ! like them a radiant star, 
She shines when seen like them afar ; 
And keeps like them her beaten track 
Along the glittering Zodiac. 
Still o'er her pours the sun in turn 
The seasons from his golden urn ; 
Waked by his beams her breezes blow. 
Led by the moon her oceans flow, 
And azure gleams the mountain's head, 
And verdantly the valleys spread; 
As when the first sweet Sabbath shone 
On all the work that God had done. 

III. 

And such as at the primal dawn 
The wild, where followed by her fawn, 
Down from her father's cabin strayed 
The lone and lovely mountahi maid. 
Though steep and rough the ridge's side. 
Onward the graceful creatures glide, 
Nor which more light and smooth appears. 
The maiden's motion or the deer's. 

IV. 

Around their path — (for to the glade 
They sought, the deer a path had made- 
Sagacious foresters that range 
Respondent to the weather's change, 
When wet and cold, the sunny hills, 
When hot and dry, the shaded rills) — 
Around their path October threw 
The various beauty of its hue. 



Canio II MAID OF THE DOE. 59 

His crimson leaves the dogwood showed, 
In milder tint the maple glowed, 
In yellow pale the poplar stood, 
And, glory of the Autumn wood. 
The hickory boughs profusely strown, 
Seemed, as the sun translucent shone 
In Iheir thin leaves of tasteful mould, 
To light their steps with lamps of gold, 
But softened, and by glimpses seen 
Through mossy trunks and boughs of green, 

V. 

When'er the maiden paused to view 

Some beauty of peculiar hue, 

Her dumb companion cropt the grass, 

And aromatic sassafras. 

And thus they roamed the sylvan shade. 

Enjoying each w^hat God had made 

For either' s good, to each more dear 

Because of her companion near. 

For ever as the maid would go 

From where she paused, she called her doe — 

"Come, Minnie, come!"' Nor long when gone 

The fragrant herb could tempt the fawn 

To stay, but with light bound 'twould run 

To follow Flora Hamilton. 

VI. 

As to t^ie stream, which frolicked through 
The mountain vale, they nearer drew, 
In grander growth above them stood 
The hoary Titans of the wood — 



60 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto II 

BriareuseSj their hundred arms 
They'd brandished in a thousand storms, 
And held their giant heads unblenched, 
Though with the scars of thunder trenched. 
And each upon his body wears 
The wrinkles of a thousand years : 
Arid moss, displayed in varying whims, 
Tattoos their sides and decks their limbs. 

VIL 

Blithe by these rooted giants, go 

The fawn-like nymph and maiden doe ; 

And now^ upon their pathway smiled 

Another wanderer of the wild. 

" O sparkling brook," the maid begun, 

'* Still making music as you run, 

Let me and Minnie go along 

To listen to your plaintive song — 

We sylvan ones, we lonely three, 

Companions for an hour may be. 

I come moreo'er some flowers to ask. 

Which it hath been your daily task 

To water, and through frosty night 

To shield in veiling mist from blight-— 

To Minnie herbs that freshest live, 

And floral gems to Flora give; 

And from yonr rock-carved goblet's brink, 

Let us those spilling diamonds drink." 

VIII. 

V She said ; and standing by the ledge 
Of mossy stone, whose curbing edge 



Canto 11. MAID OF THE DOE. 61 

For the bright streamlet made a vase, 
Bent to the brim her blooming face. 
As she the liquid mirror sips 
The shadowed press the living lips. 
And ne'er before in kisses sweet 
Did lips as fresh and rosy meet. 
The cheek on that which shone below 
Could only find its lovely glow ; 
The eyes above unconscious gaze 
On those alone which match their rays 5 
And only like her brow could beam 
its fair reflection in the stream. 



IX, 



Not long the mountain mirror holds 
This beauty in its crystal folds, 
It vanished as a rose's pressed 
By winds a moment o'er its breast; 
Or as when the o'er hanging moon 
Is hidden by a cloud too soon ; 
Or evening's blush, or glittering star, 
Fades from the sky or strays too far. 
Sweeter than these in bloom and beam, 
Her face w^as lifted from the stream ; 
And glad together wended on 
The brook, the virgin, and the fawn. 
Singing with one, with one the maid 
Exchanged caresses as she strayed, 
And frequent as they went along 
Her prattle mingled with her song. 
6 



62 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IL 

'' 1 wish, my Minnie, you could tell 
What 'tis that strikes your power of smell. 
I see your actions plainly say, 
Something has passed along this way 
Which you would have me note — Let's see— - 
Yes — these must human footsteps be — 
My father's? No I He is at home. 
Some hunter down the vale doth roam — 
And yet his gun we should have heard; 
For here the mountain's finest bird 
Feeds, drums, and his dark ruff displays, 
Upon these Indian summer days. 
Yet this explains, bright streamlet, why 
So few our path have strutted nigh 

On this soft morn. I'm glad, at least, 

That naught hath frightened from the feast 
Thy berries give, the florid bird 

Whose chirp we have continual heard, 
And form beheld, a meteor pass 

Reflected in thy breast of glass. 

And O those other winged ones too, 

Of heavenly note and heavenly hue, 

Who come on winter's melting wing, 

Heralds and images of spring ; 

And linger by the falling leaf 

To soothe with tint and song our grief, — 

I'm glad that still before my eye 

They flit like floating flakes of sky. 

Sing, pretty ones, lest I forget 

That ye are earthly creatures yet. 

But, sparkling stream, too far you rove, 
, My walk is bounded by this grove. 



Canto 11. MAID OF THE DOE. 63 

My father says these strolls of mine 
Must have their limit at this pine. 
This hemlock tree, which somewhat lone 
Stands from the rest, a verdant cone. 
Beyond, he says, the thickening shade 
Shelter for wolf and bear was made ; 
So you must wander hence alone — 
We'll rest awhile, and then return." 



This said, the moss of a huge stone 

The lady gently pressed. 
And 'gainst the tree her person thrown, 

In graceful ease did rest. 
Her bonnet dropt, the fillet slipped. 

In clusters fell the curls, 
And down her arm the ringlets dripped 

Below her bracelet's pearls. 
Some their light shadows on her cheek, 

. Some on her brow did throw, 
And wandered some in hazel streak, 

Upon her bosom's snow. 
And over all this fairy shroud 

A softer beauty throws, 
As through the fringes of a cloud 

The evening lovelier glows. 
And thus in musing mood she leant 

Against the shading tree, 
While onward her companions went — 
One on its endless journey sent, 
And one to crop the herb intent, 

As beautiful as free. 



64 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto 11. 

IX. 

But not alone the maiden stayed; 

For deeper in the lofty shade, 

That morn, her father's captive strayed, 

And while returning chanced to hear 

The accents of a lady near, 

And went through screening boughs to see 

Whose the melodious tones might be. 

X. 

His eye upon the nymph was thrown 
Just as she pressed the mossy, stone; 
As bonnet dropped and fillet slipped, 
And the soft shower of ringlets dripped. 
By the bright apparition struck 
Rooted to earth his footsteps stuck, 
Passed o'er his soul a rapture-blight, 
And every sense was lost in sight. 

XL 

While thus transfixed in sweet amaze 

He stood, and naught could do but gaze, 

He saw their lids long lashes rise 

And upward roll the lustrous eyes. 

O then it seemed a sweeter heaven 

Than that to which they turned, was given 

To this rapt view; and through the grove 

A dearer light than from above 

Was softly shed ; and presently 

The lips were parted sighingly, 

And gently stirred with numbered words^ 

Half-warbled like the song of birds. 



Canto IL MAID OF THE DOE. 65 

SONG. 
1 

My heart, why, 
With all this loveliness around, 

Dost sigh ? 
In leaf-mosaic worked, the ground 

Doth lie: 
The stream with music in each bound 

Leaps by ; 
And with its softest glory heaven is crowned. 

2 

Bosom rest ! 
Had Eve the first with Paradise 

Been blest. 
Would have exhaled unconscious sighs 

Her breast, 
To find in never-heard-of eyes 

Expressed 
Emotions in her heart untauo:ht to rise 'I 



What hath fate 
Left for my good, my joy undone ? 

Of late 
Father and mother, both nor one 

Can sate 
The wish I feel to have my own 

Playmate — 
Child of the wild, indeed, thy lot's too lone ! 

6* 



66 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IJ. 

XII. 

The warble of the vision bright 
Was e'en more fairy than the sight. 
At times arose the wild, clear note, 
Like that trilled from the mock-bird's throat, 
When on his starry wings uptossed 
In ecstasy he pours his lay ; 
Then in the cadence of the dove, 
^ Which Indians call the pigeon lost,* 

From its lone song of plaintive love. 
It died melodiously away. 

XIII. 

O yes ! the sounds, or trilled, or purled 
In links of music round the world — 
Those in the air the sky-lark leaves, 
Those that the swan on ocean breathes. 
Zephyr and rill that singing rove, 
The countless voices of the grove, 
From each was ta'en its sweetest note 
To store with music woman's throat, 
As from the earth and sky unfolded 

The loveliest shapes, the loveliest hues. 
We see into her figure moulded, 

We see her form of grace suffuse. 
But crowning flower of earth, red rose, 

And pearls, pure treasures of the sea. 
And brightest star at eve that glows, 

And moon, in all thy radiancy, 

* Putche ishoba — Pigeon that is lost, is the name given by the 
Chickasaws to the turtle dove, from its resemblance to the wild 
pigeon, and its plaintive note. 



Canto II MAID OF THE DOE. 67 

How pale, how hard, how cold ye are. 
With her warm beauties to compare ! 

XIV. 

As to the youth these fancies throng, 

Enchanted with the sight and song, 

He heard hard by a crashing sound, 

And saw the doe in frantic bound. 

And now the stream-bank shook and rung, 

As down before the virgin sprung 

A panther huge, but missed the deer, 

And on the unlooked for object near, 

The dazzling vision of the maid. 

Glared, and close-crouched, a moment laid : 

But instantly the soldiers' blade 

Was buried in his brain. 
The lady hardly felt afraid 

Before the beast was slain, 
And scarcely rose she from her seat, 
When graceful kneeling at her feet, 

The youth for pardon sued — 
'• O pardon that I stood so long, 
Enchanted with your face and song ; 

And pardon, too, imbrued 
My sword unbidden in the blood 
Of this fierce subject of the wood. 

Crouched down before his queen ! 
But there was rudeness in his stare, 
And danger lurking in his glare, 

And treachery in his mien ; 
And death his mildest doom should be 
That dares to look offence at thee." 



68 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto II, 

XV. 

All passed so quick — the startled deer, 
The panther's spring so fierce and near, 
His fearful crouch to spring again, 
The flashing sword, the savage slain. 
Instead of his green eyes to see 
A handsome soldier on his knee. 
Rendering his homage gracefully — 
All formed so wide and swift a range 
Through terrible to pleasing change, 
That well it might the maid amaze, 
And make it now her turn to gaze. 

The plumed casque in homage doffed, 
Displayed his short locks curling soft 
Around his forehead broad and high" 
And in the beaming of his eye, 
'Twere hard to tell if she could see 
More gentleness or chivalry. 

Not long she fully met its glance 
Ere she was wakened from her trance ; 
For delicacy soon a charm 
Supplied more potent than alarm. 
But while the blush suffused her face. 
Mounted the spirit of her race, 
And with a mien composed and high, 
And gentle smile, she made reply. 

XVI. 

'^ I must forgive you, though 'twas wrong 
'Unseen to listen to my song; 



Canto 11. MAID OF THE DOE. 69 

And that you this intruder slew 

So promptly, my best thanks are due. 

My bosom owns, sir, as it should, 

The sacred debt of gratitude. 

But now arise — Indeed I feel 

'Tis I whom it becomes to kneel, 

To Heaven ray fervent thanks to pay. 

For the protection given to day." 

XVII. 

E'en while she spoke with swimming eyes 

She raised her visage to the skies, 

And with a look serene, as they 

To their great Ruler seemed to pray. 

Then, to the soldier turning, *' Come," 

She said, "you must attend me home. 

I feel too much overcome alone 

To go with my poor frightened fawn. 

Although till now unseen. I know 

You are my king's, ray kinsraen's foe. 

The captive of my father's spear, 

The patient of ray mother's care. 

But, heaven-directed through the wild 

This morning to preserve their child, 

Your past relations with them end, 

Merged, as t trusty in that of friend." 

XVIII. 

Seal of her words her hand she gave, 

Which to his lips he pressed, 
And answer, mingled gay and grave. 

Becomingly expressed. 



70 



MAID OF THE DOE. Canto II. 

And arm in arm the woody maze 

They slowly wended through ; 
And much the Indian summer praise, 
In its redundant veil of haze 

And robe of rainbow hue. 
But the soft joy that chased their glooms, 

Their sweetest thoughts that stirred^ 
The light, which all the soul illumes, 
Like sunbeams sparkling in the plumes 

Of birds of Paradise — 
Of these, they never said a word, 
Though in their gentled tones 'twas heard 

And sparkled in their eyes. 
On rapture's wings as borne they go, 
Short seemed the way, the mountain low, 
Too soon, O twice too soon for each 
The lofty Eagle's Perch they reach. 
The daughter seeks the mother's breast, 
And he his place of lone unrest. 

XIX. 

But as the open door he neared, 
A form within its shade appeared, 
And soon he knew with glad surprise 
The sparkling glance of Carlos' eyes. 
With sickness and despair beset 
At parting, now in health they met, 
And hope, and due exchanges made 
Of happy greeting, Laurens said : 
"01 rejoice to see you here, 
And from your brow so glad and clear. 



Canto 11. MAID OF THE DOE. 71 

Flashes my soul across 
Such beam of hope as erst it knew, 
When battle charge your bugle blew, 

For Harry Lee's light horse. 
O haste unclasp the secret book, 
Whose title sparkles in your look, 
In order every page display, 
And do it in your minstrel way ; 
For not since Camden's day of fear 
Aught of our arms hath reached my ear," 

XX. 

The boy replied : '* That day indeed 
Did make the hearts of patriots bleed ; 
Yet in the realm so deep blood-stained, 
Champions of freedom still remained, 
Who flung her banner to the air, 
Above defeat, above despair, 
Sumner and Davie and Davidson, 

Hovering on van and flanks, 
Where'er the victor armies turn 

Cut off' their straggling ranks ; 
And from morasses of Pedee, 
And the deep shades of soft Santee, 

Darts Marion on their rear ; 
And still his files bold Sumter fills. 
And like their torrents from his hills 

Rushing, their posts uptear. 
Younger than these, but brave and true 
As ever freedom's falchion drew, 
Pickens, the mountain border keeps, 
And on the foe terrific leaps, 



72 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto II 

As from those wilds the panther bold 
Springs down upon the shepherd's fold. 

Thus the great Carolinian plain, 
On which they thought secure to reign, 
Is still a theatre of strife, 
Were want and weapons ravage life. 

XXL 

*' Nor even patriot hearts endure 
To let them Georgia hold secure. 
Rather than bow to royal sway, 
Her bravest warriors climbed their way, 
Over the Allegany's crest. 
And found a refuge in the West. 
But still their hearts to Georgia turned, 
And ever for her freedom burned. 
Leader of these the gallant Clarke 
Now calls them from their forests dark, 
And with an eagle's swoop they go 
To pounce upon their fortressed foe. 
But all their prowess skilful Brown 
Baffled before Augusta town ; 
And Furgerson is sent to meet 
And cut them off in their retreat. 
But O uncertain human fate! 
This leader, great among the great, 
With his brave band the fortune shared, 
Which they for others deemed prepared. 

XXII. 

*' Not westward far from this Plateau 
^The lucid streams of Holston flow; 



Canto 11. MAID OF THE DOE. 73 

Through fertile hills its length it trails 
The architect of lovely vales. 
Fairest, perhaps, of all of these, 
Is one, which, from its aspen trees, 
And cabins on its bordering hill, 
Has caught the name of Aspenville. 
^ There in the sway that valor gives 
The terror of the tories lives — 
Campbell his name, who happy led 
The sister to his bridal bed, 
Of the great Henry — he who first 
Let from his lip of wonder burst 
Defiance in that startling tone 
That shook the tyrant on his throne. 

His sister, had h^r husband stood 
in need of aught to warm the blood 
With all the zeal the times require, 
Had through his bosom treathed the fire. 
For hers, e'en as her brother's eye, 
They say, with courage flashes high, 
And like her brother's hath a charm 
Her voice the coldest heart to warm. 

But he from Scottish chiefs derives 
The valor that adorned their lives. 
And to him with his blood 'tis said 
There came an old Ferrara blade, 
Which through long generations gone 
Hath born renown from sire to son. 
Thi^ flashing now in freedom's cause 
Around the chief his warriors draws; 
A hardy race, whose sires the breeze, 
From Erin by the Hebrides, 
7 



74 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto II 

And Albyri's hills, to this new world 
Blew o'er the ocean tempest-curled. 
Uprooted from their ancient home, 
'Twould seem they ne'er enough could roam; 
For farther and farther still they press 
Upon the Indian's wilderness, 
Although at every step they go 
They feel the tomahawk and bow. 

In this fierce warfare trained and tried, 
Hardship and danger they deride. 
No tents or wagons they prepare, 
No magazines employ their care. 
Their rifles cleaned, their bullets run, 
Their wallets filled, their saddles on, 
They mount their steeds and dash ahead, 
The trees their tent, the leaves their bed : 
And every man, a hunter keen, 
Finds every wood a magazine 

XXIII. 

*' And now the signal for a raid, 
Has flown along the forest shade, 
Where Holston's fairest vales expand, 
And o'er the tops of Cumberland 
Campbell aloft his banner rears, 
And Cleveland's, Shelby's, and Sevier's, 
And Williams's above their brave 
And mounted rifle rangers wave. 

Down from their Highland wilds they go 
To strike Augusta, a depot 
Of Indian presents, stores and arms, 
' Which add to honor's booty's charms. 



Canto II. MAID OF THE DOE. 75 

But when they hear of Clarke's retreat, 
And Furgerson's advance, to meet 

The last at once they go. 
He from King's Mountain's wooded crest, 
With lion eye and lion breast, 

Glares on the approaching foe. 
He saw in columns three their force, 
Each now dismounted from its horse. 

And each ^vo, hundred strong. 
The mountain's different sides around 
To where his thousand warriors crowned 

Its summit, stalk along. 
In poured his fire Cleveland first. 
And from the ranks opposing burst 

The blaze of musketry ; 
And quickly through the curling smoke, 
The glittering points of bayonets broke 

Upon their enemy. 
The riflemen can but retire, 
Yet pour again a murderous fire. 

And scarce a step recede, 
Before upon the British rear, 
They Shelby's ringing rifles hear. 

And see their foemen bleed. 
Instant the bands of Furgerson 
On Shelby turn the volleying gun, 

And with the bayonet rush — 
As quick to meet their charging spring, 
Again the fatal rifles ring, 

But shun the bayonet's push. 
Not far their charge the Britons pressed. 
When Campbell reached the mountain's crest. 



76 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto 11. 

Now wreathed in war clouds dun, 
When from their edge the rifle blaze, 
And balls again the foe amaze. 

Again with slaughter stun. 
The wounded corps undaunted yet, 
Turn furious with the bayonet, 

Upon this column new ; 
And from the hill's contested ridge, 
The levelled musket's bristled edge, 

The rifle rangers threw. 
But in succession as before, 
The mountain bands advance and pour 

Their showers of death again : 
And still the foe to conquer burns, 
Though less and less alert he turns, 

Encumbered with his slain. 
By hunters roused, the grisly bear 
Thus at the nearest to his lair 

Makes his terrific fling ; 
They at his breast their weapons launch, 
And fly, when fiercely on his haunch 

Their gallant bear-dogs spring. 
Instant the savage turns — but then 
Come the assailing hunters, when 

He flies at them again ; 
The dogs on him as quickly turn. 
Again he wheels the dogs to spurn. 
And thus the alternate combats burn, 

Till buried in his brain. 

Some weapon rolls the monster on the plain. 
Thus worried, wounded, bleeding, still 
The brave provincials held their hill, 



Canto 11. MAID OF THE DOE. 77 

Until their leader died. 
Then down their well-worn arms they laid, 
And his whole host were captive made, 

Or lying at his side. 

XXIV. 

**Again their homes by hill and vale 

The mountain warriors sought, 
Where all was joyous save the wail 

Of those they captive brought. 
But scarce so great the prisoner's woes 

Through wilds unknown to tramp. 
As those which Earl Cornw^allis knows, 

And Earl Cornwallis's camp. 
A quarter of his army lost, 
Disease and want among his host, 
Gaunt famine in his van and fear, 
Marion and Sumter in his rear — 
What could he do, the mighty Earl, 
But his advancing standard furl. 
And bid his drums reluctant beat 
To Camden back a sad retreat. 
And leave to Davie's hovering wing. 
His boasted conquest for his king?" 

XXV. 

•' Glad, glad indeed your tidings are !'' 
Laurens exclaimed, *'and hope's fair star 
Gilds with its glittering beam once more 
My native Carolinian shore — '' 

XXVI. 

As he these words of rapture spoke. 
The sound of coming footsteps broke 

7* 



78 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto 11 

Their conference; and soon upon 
Their rustic floor stood Hamilton. 
With much emotion he begun: 
'* I have, sir, but this moment known 
Of all that happened in the wild 
This morning- — that you saved my child. 
Words are too weak, too poor to show 
The thanks we feel, the thanks we owe: 
And yet so strained my state, must needs. 
My words be richer thar^ my deeds. 
I need not, must not now^ explain 
From link to link the moral chain 
That binds the members of the band, 
Which I but only half command. 
That I should bid you now be free, 
They might reproach as treachery- 
Yet deeper should. I feel defiled 
To bind the hand that saved mi y child. 
I, therefore, throw myself on thee — 
Thou who saved Flora, rescue me. 
Agree on your parol to stay 
With us till after new-year's day. 
That you may readier consent, 
Know to the South your corps is bent, 
And scarcely can it reach Pedee, 
Ere you shall join your Colonel Lee. 
I scarce need add, your bugler here 
I also mean your lot to share. 

XXVII. 

'^ Enough — I take," the youth rejoined, 
'' Your offer with^a grateful mind. 



Canto 11 MAID OF THE JDOE. 79 

. That I the service sweet discharged, 
Which much your kindness hath enlarged. 
Was my good fortune, which 'tis mine 
To thank for Providence divine. 
But not for me, its instrument, 
So much was the sweet mercy sent. 
As for the mother, whose kind care 
Prolonged to me this vital air — 
'Twas she that healed the guided arm, 
Who saved the lovely maid from harm." 

XXVI. 

'Twas plain to see how this must end: 
The soldiers called each other friend, 
And by strong sympathies allied. 
Shared the same board and fireside. 
By chivalry and beauty blest, 
The cabins of the mountain crest. 
Rude villa, which the floating cloud 
Wrapt often like a winding shroud, 
Yet with the beauteous ones within, 

And the majestic scene without. 
Had more of joy and less of sin, 

Than frolic palace halls about. 
For mirth or song or tale beguiles 

The hours as they gently flow, 
And he, the urchin god of smiles. 

Was busy with his golden bow. 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 

CANTO THIRD. 



THE MAID OF THE DOE 



CANTO THIRD 



THE STORM 



I. 



O why were all the beauteous things 

That bloom on earth and beam in heaven, 

To gild the mind's imaginings, 

And charm the earthlier senses given? 

Why should the Lyre's enchanting star, 
Why the soft Pleiades, from hence 

Myriads of Earth's round journeys far, 
Shed down on man sweet influence? 

Why should the flowers that feed the bee, 
And banquet flower-like butterflies, 

Touch human hearts with sympathy, 
And be the food of smiles and sighs ? 



84 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto III 

O are the pantings of those hearts 

Too proud, when with the hope they beat, 

That all creation's distant parts 
In man, as in a centre, meet % 

For his embracing thought combines 
The great, the small, the near, the far, 

There by the sun the glow-worm shines, 
There by the floweret smiles the star. 

There song birds of the florid hue 

Gleam with the meteors in their flight, 

.4nd swans upon the ocean's blue, 
Float by the silver queen of night. 

And for man's banquet knowledge spreads 
The planets with their moons and rings. 

And every herb on which he treads. 
And insect with its glittering wings. 

He knows, enjoys and feels them all 
For power, for blessing, or for curse ] 

And must he perish as they fall, 
This centre of the universe ? 

Whose fancy, of the soaring wings, 
No height can tire, no spell can lull 

From v^^eaving all created things 
Into one infinite beautiful. 

Whose vision of a higher day 

Than round this little planet runs, 
Sees in the pallid Milky Way, 

The dim dust kindle into suns. 



Canto III MAID OF THE DOE. 85 

And through them deems the glimpses fall 

Of increate, eternal light 
From the divine Eye watching all 

The works of infinite love and might. 

Man, living soul, in this thy task 
, High, endless, dear, shalt thou be stopped ? 
No ! life is but thy mortal mask, 
And death the cloud in which 'tis dropped, 

O ^tis to lift thee with such hope. 

That to thy faculties are gi ven 
To take creation in their scope, 

And feel each charm of earth and heaven. 

Hence too between the world above, 

And every age and clime of ours, 
An universal speech of love 

And light hath been in stars and flowers, 

And man, here quickly ending, seeks 
■ His fates in orbs that endless roll, 
And through each loveliest floweret speaks 
Each loveliest feeling of his soul. 

Then deem it not an idle care 

To cherish aught that beauteous grov^^s, 

From sky to earth an accent dear. 
Breathes from the bosom of a rose. 

But Avith hearts ever grateful, cull 
The blessings to your pathway given, 

And look upon the beautiful 

As on an aspect fresh from heaven. 



86 MAID OF THE DOE. CarUo 111 

Then little boots it if ye tread 

The sombre wild or glittering street ] 

For still the sky is o'er your head, 
And still the earth beneath your feet, 

IL 

So deem the maid and soldier now 
Upon the mountain's wintry brow. 
Before the frost those tints have fled, 
Which lately glowed around its head, 
As if the vapors which the morn 
Had shed its blushing glories on, 
Had as they melted left their hues 
Upon the leaves in rosy dews. 

III. 

Now the gray branches glittering bare^ 
Chafed by the rude wind, lash the air, 
Around the lofly crest of stone, 
The snow storm's dreary heralds groan, 
Far in the west the rising cloud 
From peak to peak extends its shroud, 
• The ravens gather where they best 
May shelter by the mountain crest ; 
The eagles scent the rising gale. 
And in deprcKSsed gyrations sail, 
And seldom now the sunbeam flings 
Its radiance on their golden wings, 
So thick across the darkened sky, 
The tempest-summoned snow clouds fly.. 



CaiitG III MAID OF THE DOE. 87 

IV. 

The mountain dwellers from their home 
Remarked these signals of the storm. 
Nor toil, nor skill to be prepared 
'Gainst the rough season had they spared. 
Hands used to bridle-reins and swords, 
Had slung the axe and riven boards, 
And they who marshalled fighting men, 
Toiled in the structure of a pen. 
Now, as the freezing tempest came, 
They looked upon each humble frame. 
Saw that the stays were rightly placed, 
And every weight pole snugly braced, 
That in their sheds their scanty stock 
Was housed against the tempest's shock, 
And stacks of pea vine and wild hay 
Were fenced against the rude wind's sway. 



Nor do the loving ones forget 
The pansies, rose, and mignonette, 
For, thus far. had their tender care 
Preserved them from the nipping air. 
Now with the skill that love imparts. 
And care, the joy of loving hearts, 
They weave of evergreens a bower. 
To shelter from the frozen shower 
Tho§e soft and pure interpreters 
Between his conscious heart and hers. 
For ne'er from either's lip did melt 
A word to tell what either felt ; 



88 MAID OF THE DOEc Canto III. 

They acted as if each believed 
The fates of love in heaven were weaved. 
And angels brought about on earth 
The matches there that had their birth ; 
And their life's strangely blended path 
Had strengthened much the pleasing faith. 
As now their gentle toil they pressed 
Their breasts' pure joy their looks confessed. 
What was to them the coming storm. 
Save closer sympathies to form 
In their rich hearts? The mutual eyes 
Looked kinder for the threatening skies. 
And gentle words were gentler poured, 
Contrasted with the storm which roared 
In wild bursts from the dells beneath, 
And bowed the forest with its breath. 

VI. 

Now done whatever their hands could do 
To keep all snug the tempest through, 
They looked upon their human nest, 
And at the mountain's sheltering crest, 
And on the hurricane which shook 
Almost that rampart of their nook. 
As when the seas their billows form 
In ranks tremendous against the storm. 
And the fair ship is trim and tight, 
To buffet ocean in his might, 
The sailors 'mid the tempest dark, 
Look proudly on their gallant bark, 
While masts and spars its fury brave, 
' And baffled howls the angry wave : 



Canto III MAID OF THE DOE. 89 

So from their storm-defying peak, 
These see around the tempest break, 
And feel secure, though lifted high 
'Mid all the terrors of the sky. 

vir. 

And now the scud is driving fast, 

And snow-flakes drift upon the blast, 

So light along its fury hurled, 

'Tvvould seem they ne'er could reach the world : 

But quickly faster showering, 

Heavier the tempest flapped its wing,. 

Until so dense their fleeces form, 

They seem to smother up the storm,. 

And heaven itself to men below 

Appears precipitant in snow. 

VIIL 

The dwellers in the wilderness, 
The shelter of their cabin bless ; 
And now with eyes exultant see 
The well furred deer skin tapestry. 
But how shall winter's leafless trees* 
Protect the birds in times like these 'i 
How keep the deer the life blood warm, 
Through all the ice of such a storm l 
A thousand nooks the warblers know 
To shield them from the freezino: snow : 
The deer in beds of leaves or sedge. 
In thicket or by rocky ledge. 
Lie from the stalking hunter hid 
Beneath the fleecy coverlid, 
8* 



90 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto III 

Unless he chance to wander near 
Enough to note the quivering ear, 

IX. 

'' But how can mortals find their joy 
Aught in such season to destroy?" 
Remarked the dame with glowing look^ 
As in the converse part she took. 
" When all quail at the wrath above, 
O should not all on earth be love ? 
Such are the times to feel the span, 
How little between beast and man. 
To feel the electric links which bind 
All other creatures to mankind. 
O they, the mute and musical. 
The furred and feathered animal, 
Think how they often cry and groan 
With ills exactly like our own: — 
Think how their paths on earth and air 
Are like mankind's beset with care ! 
Sickness and want, mishap, decay, 
The enemies that tease and slay, 
The loss of mates and of their young. 
And endless tyrannies of the strong, 
Beset with ill their days of breath. 
And bring at last eternal death. 

" The storm, which bird and beast enrols 
With mortals in its frozen folds, 
O let it mortals teach, at least, 
To feel sometimes to bird and beast 
As fellow-things, which should receive 
The dues which fellow-sufferinofs g-ive! 



Ca?Uo III 3IAID OF THE DOE. 91 

This night I should almost deplore 
To turn a panther from the door." 

X. 

" True, madam, but the hunter's path 
Is like the soldier's, through the wrath 
Of elements — nor wind nor cloud 
Subdues man's spirit brave and proud. 
But his designs to aid and form. 
He bends the genius of the storm. 

" Witness the band that marched so far 
Through the drear wastes of Canada — 
Wastes, where no dwelling decked the plain, 
But all w^as winter's dreadful reign, 
And where the dismal, empty wood 
Held scarce a squirrel for their food, 

" I've often heard old Morgan say. 
That seldom through the live long day. 
His riflemen could aught perceive 
A mouthful to the troops to give. 
Save sometimes on the tree tops high, 
A little squirrel they'd espy, 
And mainly by his glittering eye. 
At once the precious little spark 
Became the fatal rifle's mark ; 
And oft the starving marksman clutched 
The creature ere the ground it touched, 
And made a mouthful of the thing, 
E'en while with life 'twas quivering." 

XI. 

" Then you know Morgan. Let me hear 
His history; for much I fear. 



92 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto III 

That even now he leads a band 
To waste my prostrate native land : 
And rumor says he has suffered w^'ong, 
His bosom to embitter long 
Against the royal officers." 

XII. 

** Nor in this, Madam, rumor errs. 
But 'tis not in the valiant breast, 
That dark resentment harbors best : 
And Morgan, to his lasting praise, 
Has never let his anger blaze^ 
'Gainst one of all those officers, 
Whom war has made his prisoners. 

" Though lowly born and rudely bred, 
His heart is kind, and sage his head. 
Nor have the patriot bands possessed, 
A truer or a braver breast — 
True to the chief, true to the cause,* 
But nothing squeamish as to laws. 

" New Jersey boasts his birth. But young, 
He roved Virginia's wilds among, 
And laid, at length, his cabin floor 
In the broad vale of Shenandoah. 
Thence, fond of enterprise and gain, 
To Braddock's war he drove his wain. 
'Twas there a felon's fate did bow, 
His now elate and laurelled brow: 
'Twas then was bound with felon band 
His often since victorious hand: 

* See a sketch of Morgan's life and charaetor, in the Appendix to 
Lee's Memoirs, vol. 1. 



Canto III MAID OF THE DOE. 93 

There that high form, which since hath rushed 
Up to the cannon, while out gushed 
From their volcanic mouths a storm 
Of fire and iron — aye, that form. 
Then rolled down lifeless by a stun 
Caught at the muzzle of a gun, 
And yet stained with its powder flash, 
That form was tortured by the lash \ 
" My indignation's bursting flame 
Forgive, dear lady — Let the blame 
Fall on the petty tyrants, who 
Make me, I fear, seem rude to you." 

XIII. 

'-' Go on, my friend, I love the truth 
To nature shown in glowing youth. 
But in what portion of his wars 
Did Morgan get those powder scars?" 

XIV. 

'''Twas when, from cloud and cannon poured, 

A double storm Quebec endured, 

When brave Montgomery's shroud of snow. 

The tears of nations caused to flow, 

He rushed the foremost mountaineer 

Upon the outmost barrier, 

And as the dauntless stormer tore 

Away the blazing garniture, 

Hot from a gun its sulphurous breath 

Made him a moment taste of death."* 

[* See Appendix, Note A.] 



94 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto III 

XV. 
*'But tell me by what steps became 
The wagoner this son of fame? 
Because it is that early strife 
Which makes the turning point of life. 
Whose oft omitted history, 
Is worthiest curiosity." 

XVI. 

"Perhaps it is," the youth replied. 
"But who can throw the veil aside, 
And show the germ that secret grows, 
And whence the hidden fountain flows ? 
The sports we deem but wasting time, 
The brawls we blame as roads to crime, 
Oft nourish energies sublime. 

"Those who the course of Morgan saw 
Twixt Braddock's and the present war, 
Deemed him a victim whom the law 
Had built, at least, its prisons for. 

" His brawls, if we may trust to fame, 
Bestowed on Battletown its name — 
In such athletic feats he won 
And wore the palm as champion. 

^' But when the annual season came 
For hunting, he pursued the game. 
Foremost in the far wilds. Alone, 
Unsheltered, save by jutting stone, 
Or antique tree, or tent of bark. 
For months, through daylight and the dark, 
He'd chase the bear, the panther slay, 
'Strike down the elk or stag at bay, 



Canto III MAID OF THE BOJE. 95 

And deem no life so sweet, so good. 
As that lone wandering in the wood. 

'' O who can tell what dreams might come 
O'er slumbers in his forest home — 
What bright, majestic nature wrought 
By visions on his waking thought? 

••Resembled much his pupilage. 
That of the old heroic age — 
The roving life, the brawling feast, 
The war with savage and wdld beast. 

"But when the revolution came, 
A nobler object lit the flame, 
Of aspiration in his breast ; 
And of his mountaineers the best, 
The bravest, stoutest, gathered round, 
And sought with him the battle ground, 
While tramping steeds and flashing blades 
Yet startled Cambridge's classic shades. 

•vO'er all the bands assembled then, 
Shone Morgan and his riflemen, 
For hardihood and statue high. 
And quickness of the hand and eye ; 
And their bronzed aspects, flowing hair^ 
Their Indian stride and Indian air, 
Their hunting shirts of tanned deer hide,"* 
With fringe and tassels streaming wide, 
The w^ild skin cap and wild bird plume, 
Shading their brows with savage gloom, 
The tomahawk their skill could wield, 
As battle axe in narrow field, 

[* See Appendix, Note B.j 



96 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto III 

Or bury in the distant foe, 
As if an arrow from a bow, 
Besides the perfect skill of all 
To wing with death the rifle ball 
Drew on the leader and his band 
A gaze of wonder through the land, 
And opened fortune's high career, 
To the adventurous mountaineer.* 

••Except my own, I love no corps 
Than Morgan's in the army more." 

XVI. 

"Yet of your own a single word, 
I never from your lips have heard;" 
Remarked the maid with that soft voice, 
In which the hearts of men rejoice. 

•^ No, gentlest one, and had I praised 
My own, I fear it had not raised 
In your opinion me or mine. . 
The truly bright is sure to shine, 
With its own beams at last. Our swords 
I trust are readier than our words. 
But if your tastes a tale prefer 
<3f us, behold our trumpeter." 

XVII. 

All the suggestion heard with joy^ 
And turned them to the dark eyed boy. 
Instant his aspect brighter beamed. 

And from his upward rolling eye, 
The pure and liquid lustre seemed 

An emanation from on hin-h. 

r* See Note B, of this Canto.] 



Canto III MAID OF THE DOE. 97 

For fancy spread her rainbow plumes, 
And touched the soul's electric strings, 

And shook away the mortal glooms 
In putting on the angel wings. 



XVIII. 

O, in such hour, could minstrel's art 

The visions of his soul impart, 

With shape distinct and vivid hue, 

As they gleam on his mental view, 

We might behold through ages gone 

The scenes and men which most adorn 

The records of our world and race; 

And every beauteous woman's face, 

Which through the cloud of works and wars 

Beam out as sweet or baleful stars, 

As beauteous through the poet's eyes, 

As to the hearts they filled with sighs. 

And feeble though the power of speech 
May be his visions fair to teach, 
And heroes and beauties move and shine, 
Faltering and faint in measured line, 
Yet of all gone who truly live 
Save in the life the poets give ? 
Whence wake, except from minstrel strings. 
Their names our soul's sweet echoings? 
And whence, save from the poet's page 
Shine out their deeds from age to age, 
With light, which not alone informs 
The mind, but soul and bosom warms? 
9 



98 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto III 

XIX. 

Carlos, whose aspect showed his strain 
Derived from bright and burning Spain. 
Had heard familiar from a child 
His father sing its ballads wild, 
And oft his lonely musing thought 
Fell in the cadences thus caught. 
Now in such measures free he told 
Of Harry Lee's adventure bold, 
Recorded by his country in gold. 

CAPTURE OF PAULUS HOOK. 

The August sun was setting, 

And in its lustre lay, 
The island town and the forts around. 

And the war-ships in the bay. 
From all, St. George's bannered cross 

Was streaming in the breeze, 
The island Queen an island reign 

Had won this side the seas. 
Manhattan's towered isle was hers, 

Long Island's villaged plain, 
And each islet in the silver set 

Of the armlet of the main. 
And up the Hudson's western shore, 

So wide her troops encamp, 
That almost to the Hackensac 

They hear a horseman's tramp. 
Narrow between these streams the land 

To the arbor stretches down, 
Where Paulus Hook's gay fortress looks 

Secure as London town. 



Canto III MAID OF THE DOE. 99 

No bark the patriot armies have 

To waft them o'er the tide, 
And whose the steed with hostile speed 

That narrow neck to ride ? 
The Jersey stream for miles fourteen 

Will not a bridge endure, 
Although the while scarce thrice a mile 

It leaves the Hudson's shore. 
Yet by that bridge along the edge 

Of hostile camps must go, 
The band to take the fort, nor wake 

A sentry of the foe. 
And by that perilous path again, 

Their safety to secure, 
With captives ta'en and wounded men 

Must seek the friendly shore. 
What infantry can dare the march, 

What steeds the ramparts force ? 
The rising sun shall see it done 

By Harry Lee's light horse. 
Silent beneath the silent stars 

Their march they now pursue : 
And the horses go as if they know 

They must be silent too. 
Used by night shades to ambuscades. 

And to the charge by day. 
The warrior-steeds the warrior men 

Instinctively obey. 
And darker made by forest shade 

Is the rude way they hold, 
Scarce see the stars the gay Hussars 

Arrayed in green and gold. 



100 MAID OF THE DOE. Ca7ito UL 

But in the dark 'twas droll to mark 

Among- their martial bands, 
Some eight or ten, like market-men. 

With baskets in their hands. 
You would surmise, to see their guise. 

And hear their mimic talk, 
They with their wives had all their lives 

Sold cabbage in New- York. 
But hidden by their rustic shirts 

Victorious swords they wore, 
And braver men than all the ten 

Were not in all the corps. 
'Twas halted now for last commands 

Around its leader bright, 
For now it nears the ground that bears 

The dangers of the night. 
And his the power to rouse the brave 

With martial eloquence, - • 
And while he wins the heart to love 

Impresses reverence. 
The thirsty ears drink every word 

As from his lip it melts, 
And you might perceive the bosoms heave 

Beneath the sabre belts. 
He said: "The chief of all the lands 

Where freedom's altars rise, 
Has honored you of all his bands 

With this bold enterprise. 
Remember your indignant words 

When Stony Point was stormed, 
You said that others reaped the prize 

When we the toil performed 



Canto III MAID OF THE DOE. 101 

And danger braved to shape the way 

For them to march to fame.* 
Your distant parts to bear your hearts 

Could scare their spirit tame. 
For what you panted then, is granted 

Now to crown your deeds — 
A fortress strong to rush upon 

And capture with your steeds. 
And though adventurous and beset 

The narrow way we hold, 
Its peril is to cowards more 

Than to the calm and bold. 
Who never shrink on danger's brink 

Their footing seldom miss, 
While vacillation's timid step 

Is plunged in the abyss. 
I've weighed your task, and never ask 

More than the brave can do ; 
Remember when two hundred men 

I beat with ten of you.f 
The morning's red its glov/ will shed 

Upon an easier deed, 
Though higher praise and minstrel lays 

Are sure to be its meed. 
For though I know misfortune's blow J 

The brave must oft endure, 
Its power is vain to cast a stain 

Upon my noble corps." 

* See Marshall's Life of Washington, vol. 3, p. 377, and Note O to 
this Canto. 

t See Marshall's Life of Washington, vol. 4, p. 72, 73, 
[t See Appendix, Note C] . 

9* 



102 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto 111, 

Sparkled their eyes to the jewelled skies. 

And shone on every face, 
A glow that said, you may see us dead, 

But never in disgrace. 
The chief beheld how their bosoms swelled 

And gave the orders due; 
And lit by stars the brave Hussars 

Their perilous path pursue. 
They keep the track by the Hackensac. 

And often down its dells, 
They wind to the edge of its marshy sedge 

To shun the sentinels. 
The neigh of a horse would rouse the force 

Of yonder slumbering camp ; 
We go so near 'tis a drowsy ear 
That does not hear our tramp. 
But all were deep in tranquil sleep, 

And never dreamed that tlreh 
So near them went, on conquest bent. 

Two hundred mounted men. 
Before them all the chieftain goes 

Their guardian and their guide ; 
And 'twas his w^iim that next to him 

Myself that night should ride. 
Silent he rode as rapt in thought, 

But calmly from his eye, 
And quick as throws your golden bird 

His glances from the sky, 
Fell from his lofty steed his own 

Towards each sound that stirred: 
But nothing draws his step to pause, 
Or from his lips a word. 



Canto in. MAID OF THE DOE. 10 

More tedious now as dangerous less 

The devious path we go ; 
And with joy we heard the sparkling bird 

That wakes the morning crow, 
And saw the streak of faint light break 

Along the eastern gloom, 
And in the grey of the dawning day 

The hostile ramparts loom. 
And now ye gallant troopers 

Ye have before your eyes, 
Defeat to mar, or victory 

To crown your bold emprise. 
Not from the fortress far they halt 

Within the skreening woods. 
And onward go the men disguised 

To sell the market goods. 
" Halloo !" they cry, and loudly knock 

Against the massive gate; 
"And must we come so far from home. 

Nor find a soul awake ? 
Make haste and buy our market stuff! 

Before the broad day shines, 
Our heavy boat must quiet float 

Within the rebel lines." 
The drowsy sentinel the gate 

On grating hinges turns ; 
'^ Haste call your caterers ! Don't you see 

How fast the daylight burns?" 
'* Halloo!" the sentinel in turn 

Exclaims with angry stare ; 
" Know you J my lads, at whom you bawl 

Or know you where you are?" 



o 



J 04 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto III 

'^ Why we must shake you well awake ! 

Don't like a booby look, 
But haste and tell we've come to sell 

These things at Paulus Hook." 
" Hands off!" exclaimed the angry man. 

" Halloo ! here comrades come ! 
You, saucy fellows, you shall take 

More kicks than coppers home !" 
With that the soldiers hurried down 

And tumult stirred the crowd ; 
"What, would you rob US'?" cried the men; 

" Huzza !" they shouted loud ; 
^' Press back the gate! They'll shut us in, 

And rifle us by force ! 
Look there ! look there ! you well may stare ; 

'Tis Harry Lee's light horse !" 
Not from the falcon's stooping wing 

The covey scatters more, 
Than did that crowd in tumult loud 

From the swift swooping corps. 
But vain they fly the steeds so nigh 1 

As by a whirlwind torn, 
The fort's a waste, and away in haste 

Its guardians captive born. 
While hurried fast they hear the blast 

Of larum, as it speeds 
From rank to rank on the Hudson's bank ; 

O can it stop the steeds'? 
With sabres drawn the corps sweeps on. 

And many a stalwert corpse 
In their path shall lay ere they stop the way 
' Of Harry Lee's light horse. 



Canto III MAID OF THE DOE. 105 

But swifter than the alarm can spread, 

And the foe his battle form, 
They cross the bridge at the very edge 

Of the darkly gathering storm; 
And their rich prize as wide the eyes 

Ope'd of our army there, 
As a fortress ta'en and no one slain,* 

Made the brave Britons stare. 
And Congress decreed so bold a deed 

Should duly honored be, 
And had it told in a medal of gold 

To the Flower of chivalry. 

XX. 

As flowed the tale, the maiden^s look 
Revealed her bosom's clasped book. 
Her sire beheld with sore amaze 
The earnest rapture of her gaze, 
As from the minstrel boy it fell 
Oft on the soldier's brow to dwell. 
•' What, can the rebel stripling 
Be weaning her from sire and king 1 
I listen to their tales to learn 
The characters of those who earn 
The meed of praise and high command 
In the misled, revolted land. 
The better to bring down, I trust, 
Their power and honor to the dust; 



* This is almost literally true of the captors ; only two of them 
having been killed; and but few of the British. 



106 MAID OF THi: DOE. Canto III 

And shall my name, my blood defiled 
Be, with a false, unnatural child?" 

XXI. 

Flashed through his soul such bitter thought 

As now and then a gleam he caught 

Of her illumined aspects glow, 

And, as it heaved, her breast of snow: 

So, quickly as the tale was done, 

Abrupt he said: " The storm keeps on: 

Its beating on this humble shed . 

Invites to slumber and to bed." 

At once, and it was time in sooth^^ 

Said their good-night the boy and youth : 

And to their humbler cabin go, 

The earth and ether fleeced with snow. 

There couched on comfortable fur, 

Bright, happy dreams their fancies stir, 

In which the glowing rose-bud breathes 

Amid the laurel's shining wreathes. 

XXII. 

The open smile on the daughter's face. 

As she bade him good-night with a fond embrace. 

Began the cloud from her sire to chase. 

O who such a breast on his own hath felt 

Nor found all its stinging icicles melt? 

But as on his couch he musing lay, 

Frequent across his mind would stray 

What every realm's wild annals prove 

Of the all-conquering power of love. 



Canto III MAID OF THE DOE. 107 

These tell how alike in its fire are lost 
Youth's purity and age's frost; 
What feeble guardians against its flame 
Are honor, piety, and shame ; 
How in the days to creation nigh 
It drew the angels from the sky: 
- How dark and deep the stain it flung 
On the sweetest psalmist that ever sung ; 
And how to sin and folly blind 
It made the wisest of mankind. 

Then turning from the sacred page 
To visions of the classic age, 
The themes of tragedies and wars 
Still glimmered beauty's falling stars — 
Phasdra, and Helen, and the wife 
That took the great Atrides's life, 
And she who left by Actium's shores 
The world behind her flying oars. 

Thus mused he 'till to dreams were wrought 
His vague and vaguer growing thought, 
And o'er him came the power that throws 
His spell alike on joys and woes 

XXIII. 

While these sad thoughts her sire oppressed, 
Sought the fair cause her place of rest, 
Unconscious that the world contained 
A bosom she had ever pained. 

» On either side the cabin spread, 

Its drooping wings, a rustic shed : 

The one her parents' slumbers blessed. 

The other was her lowly nest. 



108 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto III 

With well-furred skins, well dressed 'twas graced. 
The soldier's gifts, the maiden's taste. 
For tapestry and carpets placed ; 
And lit with blazing logs, a warm, 
Bright spot it was, amid the storm. 

By the small window w^hich illumed 
The fur-lined bower her roses bloomed ; 
And a flue built by her lover's care 
From her own fire-place warmed them there. 

Her fawn a snug and well-strawed shed 
Had joining hers, and by her bed ; 
For the forest's child could ill endure 
To sleep within a human door, 
But took a wild and strange dehght 
To visit her mother's arms by night, 
Though now from the dark and driving snow^ 
She snugly couched in her shelter low. 

And the fur skreen was thin between 
The damsel and the doe. 

XXIV. 

As cast the maid her glance about. 
And thought of her little treasures without. 
And the tender care, which against the storm 
Had made the whole so snug and warm, 
Her bosom glowed with purest love 
To earth below and heaven above ; 
And ere her beauteous head she laid 
Upon her couch, she knelt and prayed, 
Knelt on the fur of that panther's hide. 
By which she once had like to have died, 



Canto in. MAID OF THE DOE. 109 

With all her soul to the dear faith given, 
Which calls the Lord our Father in Heaven, 
And teaches, He that light bestows, 
Food to the chirping sparrow throws, 
And He the morning star that gilds, 
Arrays the lily of the fields, 
'And that His eye paternal sees 
Mankind with more regard than these. 

In all the peace such faith can spread 
Through human breasts, she sought her bed ; 
And as she drew the furs so warm 
Over the beauty of her form, 
Remembered the clothing God did give 
To frail, beguiled, beguiling Eve, 
And hugged to her bosom the sweet thought, 
To her like robes like care had brought. 
And happier thence her soft form hid 
Beneath the panther coverlid. 

XXV, 

O strange ! a thing so gentle and pure, 
Should make a father's heart endure 
A pang sufficient his soul to fill 
With the darkest records of human ill! 
Why should the maid of the fawn and flowers 
Remind of the ruin of Ilium's towers? 
Why those limbs in furs warm-furled, 
Suggest the losing of the world? 
'Tis that the form those furs infold. 
Wears beauty's tint in beauty's mould, 
And beauty, since on man's glad eyes 
It beamed, God-wrought, in Paradise, 
10 



110 MAID OF THE DOE. Ca7ito III 

Hath been the source to make him feel 
His bitterest woe and sweetest weai ; 
And those to whom it gives delight 
The deepest, deepest feels its blight. 

Aye, he who the smile soft-beaming down 
On his soul hath felt, hath felt the frown 
Too often to night his sweet day cast, 
And every star put out, at last ; 
"Till beauty's chronicle best read, 
He deemed in the Medusa's head, 
Which shone with face divinely fair, 
But curling serpents wreathed for hair. 

XXVL 

O ye, who with such dream as this 
Imbitter the sweetest source of bliss, 
Would ye had seen, to drive it away, 
That lovely maid as she sleeping lay ! 

She smiles in her dream; and what is the charm 
That on the swart coverlid presses her arm'^ 
From pure white hand to shadowy hair 
Gaze on the marvel of beauty there, 
And confess unsullied 'tis sent from Heaven, 
As the virgin snow from the cloud is given ^ 
And confess with tint as pure it glows. 
As through her veil of dew the rose, 
And that the moon just born again 
Shines not with light so free from stain. 

xxvu. 

Yes ! pure she comes from her heavenly birth, 
Sweet beauty, too oft, to be soiled on earth ! 



Canto in. MAID OF THE DOE. HI 

And the serpents Medusa's head that crowned, 
Are types of the reptiles that gird her round — 
The gliding, fawning, varnished things, 
With nimble tongues and poisoned stings — 
And not of venomed pangs, she darts 
In fond, confiding, feeling hearts. 
~ 'Tis a symbol draw^n from creation's dawn. 
When fruit from the tree of knowledge torn 
By the fell serpent to Eve was born : 
And those who tempt her daughters take 
Their lessons from that glozing snake. 



THE MAID OF THE DOE, 

CANTO FOUR. 



10* 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



CANTO FOUR. 



THE BATTLE 



I. 



O go and stray by a mountain stream, 

When day is dawning with rosy beam^' 

Where linger the forest-cherry's flowers, 

And fresh is the bloom of the wild-grape bowers, 

And where on quivering spray and wing 

A thousand birds in transport sing, 

While the sparkling stream, as it leaps along, 

Harmonious pours its flood of song, 

And see a type of that sweeter morn 

Of life that comes when love is born ! 

n. 

Then light and sweetness and music fill 
The soul, but whence they glow and thrill, 



116 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto lY. 

We heed no more than the hidden sun, 

Or the colorless bloom the vines upon, 

Or of all the birds a single one, 

Or which of the ripples along the stream 

Hath the clearest note or the brightest beam ; 

But careless enjoy without control 

The delicious tumult of the soul, 

Scarce conscious of the subtle power 

To which we owe the balmy hour. 

III. 

But changes soon the orb of day 
His gladdening for his scorching ray ; 
And bitter the fruit of all that bloom, 
Which timidly shed such sweet perfume ; 
And drooped and silent the moulting bird, 
Whose love-born song was so rapturous heard ; 
And wasted by the dog-day's beam, 
Joyless and voiceless creeps the stream. 

IV. 

And fevered, imbittered and withering, 
Droops oft the bosom when love is king ; 
And heavy now his sceptre's weight 
Is laid on hearts so blessed of late, 
They deemed a forest tricked with ice, 
A glittering bower of Paradise. 
The father's jealous care his child 
No more permitted to roam the wild ; 
The slippery paths, the drifted snow, 
Were reasons why she should not go ; 



Canto IV. MAID OF THE DOE. 117 

When these had vanished 'twas his whim 
That she should ever walk with him ; 
And colder and colder welcome given 
To Laurens every morn and even, 
Drove him, at length almost aw^ay 
From the lovely source of his bosom's day. 



V. 



As more and more their severance grows, 
Its fate each bosom more deplores, 
And on their love-looks to encroach 
Began a shadow of reproach. 
'* Why thus from me yourself divide'?" 
'•Ah! why so seldom seek my side?" 
Are questions whispered in their sighs, 
Or written in their gazing eyes. 
In these heart-mirrors neither reads 
The fondness, but the shade it breeds. 
And thus in either, day by day, 
The shadow more obscures the ray, 
And less and less their smiles illume 
Each other's bosom's thickening gloom. 

VI 

At length arrived with the parting hour, 
The full flood tide of passion's power ; 
Then measured adieus to the sire he spoke, 
But affectionate words to the mother out broke. 
And when to the daughter to say good-by, 
He turned, and saw in her moistened eye 
A look of love and agony, 



118 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IV, 

Sunk his elation, reserve fled — 

'' O heaven and earth and thou," he said, 

" Loveliest and best of mortal birth, 

Dearer to me than heaven and earth ! 

And ye, her being's honored source, 

And guardians of its beauteous course, 

Witness the vow I solemn breathe. 

If through this awful war I live, 

As soon as peace again bestows 

The name of friends on generous foes, 

Myself and fortunes shall be laid 

Down at thy feet, adored maidj; 

And if through wars vicissitude 

I can to thee or thine do good, 

Which duty shall not disapprove, 

'Twill be indeed a labor of love ; 

And I beg as the boon of this parting hour 

You'll not deny it to my power ;^ . 

Soothe thus the bosom rent in twain 

To leave thee, though to meet again !" 

Vll. 

He said, and to kiss her fair hand bowed, 
When o'er her senses swept a cloud: 
Like a rose with incumbering rain-drops bent 
Her tear-gemmed cheek on his shoulder leant. 
And turned as pale as the vaporish moon. 
In the dim shadow of her swoon. 

vni. 

All to her sire was such surprise, 
At first, he scarce believed his eyes ; 



Canio IV. MAID OF THE DOE. 119 

Next anger, and then acorn prevail, 
And charge by turns his brow with paie. 
But when his child's suspended breath 
Gave him a glimpse of her in death, 
Parental feeling's potent charm ^ 

Buried the others in alarm. 
^ He followed her by her lover borne 

To her couch, and helped to lay her down. 
And absorbed with him in watching there 
The result of the mother's ministering care. 
Knew naught on earth to wish, to prize, 
Except to see unclosed her eyes, 

IX. 

Nor long before with languid ray. 
Opened those sources of sweeter day 
To the soul of man, than the sun's birth 
Shed on the scarcely moulded earth. 
They looked around, and surprise absorbs 
At first the radiance of the orbs, 
But soon a gentle shade of shame 
O'er the soul-shadowing mirrors came, 
With beams of fondness melting through, 
As she waved her hand and sighed adieu! 

X. 

''Yes, go!" the mother said, '''twere wrong 
This scene of torture to prolong." 
And the speechless youth, whose last look said 
More than could language, turned his head. 
And dashed the tear-drop from his eye. 
And hastened from their roof to fly 



120 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IV. 

Though fast the soldier strode before, 
Close followed the sire beyond his door; 
" I claim a parting word !" he cried. 
The accent waked the soldier's pride, 
And he turned around with loftier brow : 
" I listened to your recent vow. 
And beg you'll hear my answer now ; 
If my child's life you saved from harm, 
You, too, have robbed it of its charm-— 
Its charm to me at least, therefore 
We are somewhat even on that score. 

"As to the offer of your hand, 
The doe and wolf shall sooner band, 
Than her's take wedlock's holy ring 
From any rebel 'gainst her king. 

'^As to the proffered aid you would 
Lend us through war's vicissitude. 
We shall not need it, sir. Behold 
Yon signal smoke in volumes rolled 
From many beacon fires ! First 
Up the horizon's verge it burst 
'Way yonder, where the azure plain 
Spreads to your vision like the main ; 
The hills the signal onward brought, 
Thence by the mountain tops 'twas caught; 
And see how fast my beacon fire 
Sends up its high responsive spire ! 
The pillars of cloud as they swept along 
Proclaimed Cornwallis's army strong, 
With Leslie's force; and that every hand 
Which would of rebellion purge the land, 



Canto IV. MAID OF THE DOE. 121 

Must seek the appointed rendezvous ; 
I, therefore, bid you a short adieu ! 
On yonder plain again we meet, 
Unless your horses prove too fleet." 
This said, he bowed with stately port. 
The youth replied : ^* Til not retort, 
^ But thank you that you showed the signs 
Of tempest in yon cloudy lines, 
Gathering to burst in blood and woe 
Upon my country. Strength to go 
It gives me ; and away I speed 
To help her at her utmost need," 

XL 

Thus saying, down the usual road 
Which from the cabins led, he strode ; 
But at a hunter's path which wound 
Off towards the west, the page he found 
Awaiting him. With hurried pace 
They sped along that rugged trace. 
Waded the streams, save sometimes where 
The ice was strong enough to bear, 
Threaded the dells and climbed the hills, 
Wound by the rocks and leaped the rills= 

But as each lofty point they passed, 
A look reverted Laurens cast, 
To see once more aloft and bare 
The cabined islet of the air ; 
But on his moistening eye then broke 
The signal pillar of volumed smoke; 
And that would string his limbs again 
To push along with might and main 
11 



122 MAID OF THE DOE. Ca7ito IV, 

Nor 'mid the cares his soul engage, 
Was he unmindful of the page, 
But bore him through the deepest floods, 
And helped him up the steepest woods. 

Thus toiling on, night found them at 
The waters of the Ararat, 
With the great mountain ranges thrown 
Between them and the frozen zone. 

In a milder clime by the crystal stream, 
They kindled their fire's cheerful beam. 
Heaped high the dry leaves for their bed, 
A canopy of pine boughs spread. 
Took at their ease their slight repast, 
And into slumber fell at last. 

XII. 

Meanwhile, upon the usual route, 
Which from their wild retreat led out, 
Ruthlyn and one base follower lay 
In ambush for them half the day — 
Ruthlyn, the second in command 
Of the wilderness-hidden tory band — - 
Fonder to prowl for prey at night, 
Than meet his foes in open fight, 
His quick eye's dark sinistrous roll 
Revealed his black, perverted soul. 

'Twas he contrived the ambuscade. 
Which erst a captive Laurens made, 
Nor was 't without imbittering strife, 
That Hamilton preserved his life, 
And from the stain of robbery 
S^ved the provincial chivalry. 



Canto IV. MAID OF THE DOE. 123 

The caitiff; too, aspired to bend 
Flora to be his more than friend. 
And thence to Laurens felt of late 
What jealousy could add to hate. 

To make his fell accomplice bold 
In the dark deed, he promised gold, 
- Of which, he said, a precious store 
Laurens about his person bore, 
Just gathered from his large estates 
For revel with his martial mates. 

Hence for their victims eager laid 
Both, half the day, in ambuscade ; 
When, deeming their depart postponed, 
Chagrined towards their homes returned, 
And Ruthlyn in its cause to search, 
Sought the high groves of Eagle-perch. 

XIIL 

A darker shade on his brow was thrown 

When there he learned the birds had flown. 

" Gone!" he exclaimed, "and pray, which way .^ 

I have not seen them pass to day, 

Though all the morning on the road 

Which should have led them through the wood." 

XIV. 

" Were you indeed?" the maid rejoined, 
" They heard of something of the kind. 
Qarnoch was with you, was he not"^ 
Carlos a hint from some one got, 
That you and Garnock were to lay 
In ambush for some game to day." 



124 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IV. 

As spoke the maid with searching look. 
With rage and shame alternate shook 
Dark Ruthlyn^s breast. Her sire observed 
How from their wondering gaze he swerved. 
And, struck with horror, said, •' My dear, 
How this wild story could you hear?" 

'' From Car,lo3j father ; but I thought 
It was an idle fancy wrought 
In the boy's brain, by some light word 
Of gossip from our people heard„ 
Yet, I confess, I feared the worst, 
As more and more reflection nursed 
The dark idea ; and from it came 
Much that this morning shook my frame." 
'^ Ruthlyn, these hints you dont deny ; 
And, sir, I must be plain — your eye 
Confirms them; can my loyal band 
Be foul with an assassin's hand?" 

XV, 

By this, time on the dastard's face 
Took impudence confusion's place, 
^' And by what right, sir," he exclaimed. 
" Have your suspicions thus defamed 
My character, and tongue abused 
My patience by the words you used '? 
I never bowed me to the rule, 
I own, of your romantic school. 
But do as wisdom shows we must 
To bring rebellion to the dust; 
Nor spare from folly, falsely named 
Honor, those who this realm inflamed; 



Canto IV. MAID OF THE DOE, 125 

Nor deem, sir, stretches your command 
To wound my heart or rule my hand." 

With this, abrupt he left their door 
Accumulating vengeance's {store 
In his dark breast, another way 
To fall on them another day, 
And glut his soul with sweeter prey. 

XVI. 

Although his presence the parents grieved. 
And much his absence their child relieved, 
The feeling which his outbreak left 
Was that of being more bereft ; 
And drearer and drearer every day 
Grew mountain lone and forest grey. 

XVIL 

Meantime, their captive, lately freed. 

Bestrode again a warrior steed. 

He chanced to meet a mountain band, 

Summoned down by Greene's command 

To strengthen Morgan, ranging yet 

The borders of the Pacolet, 

With them he hurried on, as surf 

Service to find if not his corps. 

For ever nearest to the foe. 

It was the Legion's part to gc , 

XVIIL 

Warmly did Morgan meet the youth, 
And kindly heard his tale of truth; 
11* 



26 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IV. 

'* Well, well ! I'm glad to have you here, 
And that bright boy the camp will cheer. 
For as to seeking Colonel Leey 
With Marion somewhere on Pedee, 
'Twould be as wise as looking for 
A needle in a stack of straw. 

*' You in ray staff shall have employ, 
And Washington will take the boy ; 
They want just such a chap as he 
In the brave Colonel's cavalry. 
Consent, there's little time for talk; 
Tarlton is giving us sharp work.'* 

'* Yes, General, and with many thanks,'' 
Laurens replied, and joined the ranks: 
And Carlos' s bugle merrily 
Rung to the tramp of cavalry. 

XIX. 

For the light corps was hard beset ; 
Tarlton had passed the Pacolet, 
And the Earl himself with rapid stride 
Was marching up Catawba's side, 
To throw his veterans between 
Morgan and the recruits of Greene. 
And much it chafed the Brigadier 
To be by Tarlton pressed so near ; 
He had been ever used in fight 
Safety to find, and not in flight ; 
And at each step more sullen grown, 
He sat him at the Cowpens down, 
Resolved that his presumptuous foe 
Siiould feel the prowess, of his blow. 



Canto IV. MAID OF THE DOE. 127 

XX. 

His troops refreshed, the following day 
He placed in battle's best array. 

Ranged beneath Pickens's famed ensign, 
In front was the militia line. 
Many with rifles armed ; and near, 
Their horses fastened in the rear. 

Next this, at proper distance, stands 
Another, formed of veterans, 
Part of the heroes who sustained 
Their army's honor when 'twas stained 
In Camden's fatal field; these are 
Of Maryland and Delaware, 
Whose broken regiments compose 
One, still the terror of its foes. 

In place and valor joined with these 
Were two militia companies, 
Familiar with the bayonet, 
And led by Tate and Triplett, 
Who from Virginia's borders came -^ 

In search of other fields of fame. 

But covered most with glory scars 
Were Kirkwood and his Delawares:* 
Remnant of those their land, that lay 
Exposed and bleeding by her bay, 
Yet from her generous bosom yields 
The common cause in distant fields. 
As battle made their numbers few. 
The circle of their glory grew : 

* See Note C ; and 1 Lee's Memoirs, 182, 83, in note. 



128 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IV. 

For every comrade death struck down 

Left them a treasure of renown, 

Till round a company's brows were bent 

The chaplets of a regiment ; 

And foremost in those honors stood 

The unrewarded, brave Kirkwood. 

XXL 

Upon this second line the best. 
Nay, only hopes of victory rest: 
And on its brave commander more 
Than even his intrepid corps. 
From Maryland, whose waters pour 
Their treasures on her double shore. 
Derived his birth this son of fame—- 
John Edgar Howard was his name. 
Careless of stratagem, he strode 
To victory by the nearest road : ' 
To valor trusting more than an. 
He struck at the invader's heart, 
And loved by deeds, not words, to show 
The way to triumph o'er the foe, 
Calmest when most the battle stormed, 
Quickly the broken rank be formed, 
MancEuvred steadily to get 
The contest to the bayonet. 
And make the end at once to be 
Illustrious death or victory. 

XXII. 

As the reserve, to shelter all. 
Or on the vanquished foe to fall, 



Canto IV. MAID OF THE DOE, 129 

The cavalry were apily placed, 
By Washington's commandment graced. 
Like his great kinsman, William too 
From the Potomac's border drew 
His birth, and ranks with the great son^ 
Of the great river of the swans; 
- (From Patawomek, the Indian name 
For river of swans, Potomac came;) 
And none than he of all the rest 
Had a kinder heart or bolder breast. 

Of stalwart arm and statue large, 
He loved the battle's hottest charge ; 
Not driven by anger, but the glow 
Of chivalry the valiant know, 
He felt a kindness for the foes 
Who gave him scope for noble blows. 

Happy to woo fair honor's charms, 
Beneath him were the men-at-arms. 
And for the charge impatient stand v 

Around him now his gallant band. 

XXIII. 

And last,, in front of all his host 
Did Morgan rifle parties post, 
To feel the enemy as he came, 
And kindle up the battle's flame, 
To tumble in their tracks a horse 
Or two, and break their onset's force. 
O then his bosom's wish was strong 
For his old corps and Gabriel Long.* 

* Gabriel Long was Morgan*s favorite captain in his old rifle 
regiment. 



130 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IV. 

But turning from regrets his breast, 

First the militia he addressed. 

'*My gallant friends," he said, '' who come 

To fight for country and for home, 

I will not worthy lives expose 

Too much to your unworthy foes. 

I know your courage — I have tried 

Militia, fighting by their side 

Too often not to know the zeal 

They ever for their country feel. 

But ail my present need requires 

Is that you pour in two close fires. 

Take care you dont too soon let go, 

And take care, too, to fire low. 

'' But of their bullets have no dreads 
They are sure to pass above your heads. 
I've known those fellows long before 
To day, and beat them with my corps — 
Just my old rifle corps, without 
Those bayonets and horsemen stout, 
Whose prickly points and sabres' edge 
Shall shield you with an iron hedge. 
Then nothing fear ; but when you fire 
Behind the regulars retire." 

XXIV. 

Then to the veterans he turned, 
And a few words where courage burned 
And confidence, he calmly spoke; 
And told them when the first line broke 
Not to regard it, for his plan 
Comprised the flying of his van. 



Carito IV. 3IAID OF THE DOE. 131 

In silence then and martial glow, 
He sternly waited for the foe. 

XXV. 

And quick and with presumptuous joy 
Did Tarlton's eager troops deploy. 
Two light field-pieces' brazen shine 
Add to the terrors of his line. 
With these two regiments in rank, 
And fierce dragoons to shield each flank^ 
Moved ardent on ; and in the rear 
Mc Arthur's bold battalion near. 
Supported, too, by bands of horse. 
Formed the reserve of all his force, 

XXVL 

The fiery leader scarce delayed 
To see his battle line arrayed, 
Before he made, in swift advance. 
The files to tramp, the steeds to prance. 

Then battle's sharp prelusive notes 
Were wakened from the rifle-throats, 
And soon its grander fires illumed, 
And terrors from the cannon boomed. 

Fast backward borne to Pickens's ranks, 
Ranged the light parties on the flanks, 
And soon with these (their double fire 
Poured in) to the next line retire, 
With Pickens some, while others flee 
Before the dreaded cavalry. 



132 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IV, 

XXVII. 

Thus of its novices the front 

Of battle cleared, was poured its brunt 

Upon the steady veteran line, 

Where Howard's ready bayonets shine, 

Where, slaughter's waifs and honor's heirs, 

Stood Kirk wood and his Delawares, 

Where Pickens's bravest took their stand, 

And Morgan's self was in command, 

XXVIII. 

On the impetuous Britons rush ! 

But iirmlv met their shock 
The patriots, as the billows gush 

A precipice of rock. 
Impatient that they will not swerve 
Up Tarlton orders his reserve, 
And stretches out so far his rank. 
As to endanger Howard's flank, 
Which quickly in the open field 
To face the cavalry was wheeled : 
When Morgan, to relieve his line, 
Bade it in calm retreat incline 
Towards Washington, who thus a wing 
Of sabres on its flank would fling. 

XXIX. 

Prompt and precise the veterans made 
The ordered movement retrograde ; 
But prelude to defeat and rout 
The Britons deemed it, and with shout 



Canto IV. MAID OF THE DOE. 133 

And tumult rushed upon their foe. 

The bayonets are leveled low 
Already, and aloft in air 
Glitter the sabres, keen and bare , 

To crush them at a blow. 
But Howard's calm courageous eye 
- Was watching while they hurried nigh. 
And saw with joy old Kirkwood's glares 
As they pressed on his Dela wares. 

*' Now wheel and fire 1" he said ; 
And suddenly a storm of death 
Burst in a blast of sulphurous breath 

Upon their battle's head. 
By the tremendous blow their line 
Astonished, crippled or supine, 
Showed like a panther when a ball 
Has turned his spring into a fall 
And writhing limb nor glaring eye 
Reveal if he shall fight or die. 
So stunned, curled up and robbed of strength, 
Seemed that fierce line through all its length ; 
And in confusion while it reeled, 
The bayonets pinned it to the field. 
So swift the tide of battle changed 
A single cannon scarce they ranged 

The charging host to stun, 
When Anderson before the whole 
Used espontoon for springing pole, 

And leaped upon their gun ; 
And ere the explosive power could catch 
Its vigor from the burning match, 
12 



134 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IV, 

Backward its bearer bore, 
Who struggled with the patriot train 
To launch upon their crowded plain 

His thunderbolts once more, 
Till Howard's self could scarcely save 
From his own men that foeman brave* 

XXX. 

Just as stern Howard wheeled to fight, 
To Washington a piteous sight 
The flying riflemen afford, 
Struck fiercely by the British sword. 
At some the flashing sabre speeds 
Dodging its blows beneath their steeds, 
And some he views ignobly die, 
Their steeds too far, the foe too nigh. 

'•Boys, do you see thaf?" As he spoke. 
The ashes from his pipe he shook. 

And thrust it down his boot ; 
As sure a prelude of a charge, 
As of a song by river marge, 

The music of a lute, 
"Boys! see you that?" again he said, 
And waved aloft his ample blade, 

And Carlos's bugle rung. 
Then like a line of arrows sent 
From Indian bows when fiercest bent, 

Away, away they sprung ! 
A moment scarce their frantic course 
Was checked by Tarlton's shattered horse, 

[* See Note D.] 



Canto IV. MAID OF THE DOE. 136 

Who, bent in flight, endure 
The slaughter which their trenchant blades 
In many routs and many raids 

Did perpetrate before. 
When first upon their foes were dashed 
The victor swords, as lightning flashed 

The blows that struck them down ] 
But raised again, in smoking flood 
Streamed from the blades a shower of blood, 

Their enemies to drown. 
And still the drops of horror fall 

Till half the foe remain 
Captive, with arms, artillery, all, 

Or stretched upon the plain. 

XXXI. 

But round their chief in gallant group, 
His mounted officers a troop 
And staff to guard and aid him form, - 
And save the wreck of battle's storm; 
For never yet hath panic fear. 
Nor the dark hour of despair 
Chilled in their hearts that noble glow 
The gentlemen of England know, 
Which makes them follow duty's call, 
And honor's, though the sky may fail. 

Now on their sad but sacred care, 
They hung with Tarlton in the rear 
Of those who first from battle fled, 
Or in its midst had ne'er been led, 



136 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto IV, 

Ranging their cavalry to place 

A barrier to the bloody chase. 

And save the groups of stragglers 

Scattered before their conquerors, 

When near they heard a thundering sound. 

And seemed to shake the solid ground ; 

When turning suddenly around, 

Before his squadron far 
They saw a single horsenian strain, 
And o'er his charger's flickering mane, 
His sabre through its lurid stain 

Gleam like a blazing star. 
'' 'Tis he, the battle's boldest son ! 
My arm at least one Washington 
Shall feel!" cried Tarlton, and rushed on 

To meet his rushing foe; 
And dreadful was the charger's shock, 
And fearful was the champions' lock, 
And showed the fire their sabres struck 

The fury of each Uow. 
Then Tarlton soon had lowly laid, 
But instant rushing to his aid, 
His comrades intercept the blade 

Upon its fatal plunge; 
And theirs against the victor bent. 
And him to death had quickly sent. 
But one uplifted arm was rent 

By Perry's eager lunge ; 
And Carlos lucky pistol drew 
From t'other one the purple hue. 
And down the lifted sabre threw. 



Canto IV. MAID OF THE DOE, 137 

And rescued from the strife 
Him whom his soldiers claimed to be 
The mirror true of chivalry, 
And dear had deemed their victory ^ 

If purchased with his life. 
And Tarlton and his gallant group. 
What could they but with rapid stoop 
Fly where were now in rallied troop 

The fragments of their fight ; 
And thence, subdued in all but mind, 
And sad for those they leave behind, 
And sad for those they go to find, 

Press on their painful flight? 
Perchance to envy as they fled 
Their comrades on their gory bed ! 

XXXIL 

Nor did the victars of the field 
To rest that evening's remnant yield^ 
But conquerors, captives, trophies, all 
Were o'er Broad River by nightfall, 
Leaving their glory harvest plain 
To silence and the buried slain. 



12^ 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



CANTO FIFTH 



THE MAID OF THE DOE 



CANTO FIFTH. 



THE RETREAT. 



I. 

Ye whose high task it is to trace 

The laws which hold the wondrous frame 
Of the vast universe in place, 

And make revolving years the same ; 

Who in unchanging laws behold 
The Changeless, and by iniiniteness 

Of wisdom all things shaped of mould 
Perfect, and of eternal fitness : 

Yet blame not those who deem they see 

In special acts the hand divine, 
And through their clouds of misery 

Believe particular mercies shine. 



J 42 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V. 

For ever since the world begun, . 

The heart of man its faith hath given 
To v^ords and signs, the Eternal One 

Hath spoke, and shown to earth from heaven. 

Then what the difference if the mind 

He fashioned to receive a sense 
Of special goodness in the kind 

Workings of general Providence ; 

Or bows his universal laws 

Sometimes to a particular end'? 
Either alike the wretched draws 

To God as their almighty friend. 

And one or t'other 'tis, or both, 

Teaching alike to low and high. 
Through every age and clime, the truth 

Of earth's connection with the sky. 

n. 

Thus, too, a scene or cause endeared. 

And sanctified to man is oft, 
In which the aid divine appeared, 

Or signs propitious gleamed aloft. 
And Yadkin's and Catawba's streams 
Seemed to reflect such sacred gleams, 
When Earl Cornwallis pressed the band 
Of Morgan with his hero hand. 

HI. 

For when the steeds with heavy tramp 
^Brought the sad tidings to his camp, 



Canto V. MAID OF THE DOE, 143 

That more than half of Tarlton's host 
Was at the field of Cowpens lost, 
A multitude of whom the train 
Of Morgan swelled in captive chain, 
Surprise and grief his bosom tossed ; 
And to retrieve what others lost 
With bis own arm, or all involve 
In the same wreck, was his resolve- 

IV. 

For not to wage ignoble war 
Did Earl Cornwallis come so far 
From his high home and beauteous wife, 
Jemima, left to weep her life 
Away for her brave Lord's return. 
No ! high his hopes of giory burn ! 
Already lord of Julius Towers,* 
And loved at Windsor's royal bowers, 
He burned from the new world to bring 
The trophy dearest to his king — 
Submission from the daring crew 
Who strove to rend his realm in two, 
And clouded with rebellion's frown 
The brightest jewel of his crown, 

V. 

And this his task went bravely on — 
Two armies crushed, two Colonies won, 

* Cornwallis was at the time Lord Lieutenant of the Tower of 

London. 

*' Ye Towers of Julius, England's lasting shame." 

What is said in the text of the excessive grief of his wife at his 
absence is not exaggerated, at least from the account of it which 
has reached me . 



144 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V. 

A third half ready for his sway, 
Virginia next should be his prey ;— 
Virginia, whence rebellion came 
First, and which mainly fed its flame, 
And yet erect in lofty pride 
Stood powerful and unterrified. 
Strike her but down, and England's throne 
Would soon its old dominions own, 
At least to the Potomac zone. 
Nor long without its South ally 
Could Independence banner fly 
Triumphant in the Northern sky ; 
And all the South appeared to lean 
Entirely on the arms of Greene. 
Destroy his mustering bands, and whence 
Again could flow the South's defence? 

One arriiy was with Charleston ta'en, 
At Camden one dispersed and slain. 
Its fragments and what else the land 
Could raise, composed now Greene's command . 
Its total wreck despair must bring, 
And then submission to the king. 

VI. 

Amid this reasoning of the EarFs, 
Flashed of the conquerors of worlds 
Examples high on his high soul. 
And chief of him who won the goal 
Of glory in this new found realm, 
Cortez, who made the flames o'er whelm 
His ships, and all that means affords 
'Of safety, save victorious swords. 



Canto V. MAID OF THE DOE, 146 

Fired with the thought, and wholly bent 
On crushing the impediment 
Sole, as he deemed, the South to bring 
In full submission to his king. 
He led the way to yield to flames 
All that the soldier's comfort claims, 
Celerity to give his bands 
And make them seek in conquered lands, 
Through lofty deeds and noble toil, 
More than they made of flame the spoil. 
Then ardent up Catawba's banks 
He led in eager march his ranks, 
To cut off Morgan from the roads 
By which he hastened to its fords ; 
For to those fords the Brigadier 
Was scarce as Earl Cornwallis near. 

VIL 

Eager the struggle was of each 
Those points of vantage first to reach ; 
The one pushed on to save his fame, 
Captives and spoils — the other came 
To rescue and revenge on flame ; 
And Morgan hardly crossed the stream 
When in the lurid twilight gleam. 
The hostile banners on the shore 
From which his corps had struggled o'er ; 
And Tarlton's troopers draw their swords 
To rush into the angry fords. 

But darkness and the brimming tide 
Made the serener Earl abide 
That night upon the safer side. 
13 



146 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto F 

Yet less his troops of slumber thought 
^ Than of the conquest to be wrought 

At morning on their foes ; 
And dreams of comrades they should meet. 
And of revenge for late defeat, 
. Enlivened their repose. 

VIII. 

Gladly the dawning day they see. 
And gladly hear the reveille; 

But mingled with the drums, 
A sound as of a distant storm, 
Or ocean billows dashed to foam, 
Or torrents from their mountain home, 

Up from Catawba comes. 
And in wild current deep and strong 
His angry waters rushed along, 

Their banks o'erfoaming wide; 
And sudden cross Cornwallis path 
Stretched out a mighty arm of wrath, 

And checked him in his pride. 

IX. 

Two days the full and foaming flood 
Against the Earl the pass made good: 

But with the third day's beam 
The chafing Lord the chafing wave 
Subsided deemed enough to brave, 

And plunged into the stream. 

X. 

But Greene, with escort light, to meet 
Morgan meanwhile on coursers fleet, 



Canto V. MAID OF THE DOE. 14 

Had hurried to that river's side; 
And while the flood was in its pride, 
Prisoners and spoils had sent away, 
And all that might his march delay, 
And spread his light troops on the banks 
To check and thin the invading ranks. 



XL 

And bravely by the aidant flood 
Against the Earl the natives stood ; 
And clamors from Catawba gushed 
As foemen on his bosom rushed. 

As struggling Leslie's steeds to drovvn» 
The angry current swept them down, 
Tumbled O'Hara's charger o'er, 
And scarcely staggered to the shore 
Beneath the Earl himself his steed 
The distant rifles doomed to bleed ; 
And many men, their nobler prey, 
The exultant river bore away. 
But the main army struggled o'er, 
And drove its guardians from their shore: 
When Davidson, to rise no more, 
Fell; and fell too his country's tear 
At the early death of the Brigadier. 
Mounting his steed to save his force 
From the swift charge of Tarlton's horse, 
Through his brave breast the bail was sped 
That mixed him with the glorious dead. 

Their leader slain, his soldiers fly, 
Or by the trenchant sabre die. 



148 MAID OF THE DOE. Canio V, 

XII. 

Now to the Yadkin's banks the race 
Is hotly urged, and urged the chase ; 
And winter rains the winter roads 
Deepened, and deepened more the fords. 
But miry way nor tempest rude 
Can check pursuers or pursued ; 
Onward they plunge, in drenching rain, 
Through swollen stream and splashy plain, 
Till on the second dismal night 
Dark gleamed the Yadkin on their sight. 

XIIL 

Through darkness and the chilling rain 
Greene's infantry a passage gain 
In boats, canoes and every rude 
Contrivance to surmount the flood ; 
And ford the cavalry the stream 
By their pine torches' flickering gleam. 
And scarcely had they gained the shore 
When down in torrents seemed to pour 
The very clouds, and rills around 
In torrents to the Yadkin bound ; 
And while O'Hara pressed so near, 
He even touched the lagging rear, 
And his exultant cavalry strains 
Beyond the captured baggage wains, 
The river bursting from his banks 
Bore back from his roused breast their ranks — - 
Rose the great guardian of the soil, 
' And thundered forth, '' Vain man, recoil!" 



Canto V. MAID OF THE^ DOE- 149 

XIV. 

Thus, twice the favor of Heaven confest 

Sent through each conscious patriot breast, 

A thrill of fervent gratitude 

To the great fountain of all good. 

In Him they feel their trust abide 

Whose promise they see verified, 

That race nor battle should belong 

Forever to the swift and strong. 

Thus cheered amid their toil they go, 

And to the river leave the foe.* 

XV. 

With sad but with submissive eyes 
Saw the great Earl the ready prize 
Snatched from his grasp again. His plan 
Was next upon the lower Dan, 
To force the driven bands to troop, 
And there to crush them at a swoop. 
For there in volume deep and strong 
He knew the river rolled along; 
And where were boats to waft them o'er 
Ere he could strike them on its shore ? 
This quick resolved, upon the roads 
Which lead to Yadkin's upper fords, 

* See Lee's Memoirs, 1 vol., 272. And I had as well say here, 
that the account given in the text of this celebrated retreat, is taken 
implicitly, others may say servilely, from that work. But I shall 
be happy, if in altering the form, I have preserved the spirit of its 
picturesque and animated narrative. 
13* 



150 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V. 

He pushed along, and got between 
The mountain refuges and Greene, 
Glad that his army thus should be 
Hemmed in by rivers and the sea. 

XVI. 

And deep the care that banished rest 
From his, the flying hero's breast; 
The safety of the South he too 
Dependent on his army knew, 
And the pjreat chief of ail the brave 
Had chosen him that South to save. 
For oft Rhode Island's mighty son 
Had counsels shared with Washington : 
From him had learned in battle-field 
How to subdue, and how to yield; 
With him had shared through cold and heat 
The eager chase, the sad retreat; 
And still to Greene of all his host 
Freedom's great champion trusted most. 
That lofty trust to vindicate 
Now all his counsels meditate. 

He knows that soon his flying bands 
Will meet where Guilford Court House stands 
The army in chief with brave Huger. 
And Legion Partisan of Lee. 

But sure defeat when all unite 
Would wait them if the Earl they fight. 
And the sole struggle of the brave 
Must be the mustering force to save, 



Canio V. MAID OF THE DOE. 151 

Until recruits Virginia yield 
Enough to let it keep the field. 

XVII. 

While plans for this engage his care 
They drew to Guilford Court House near, 
' And all delightedly survey 
To greet them placed in fair array 
The army in chief, and in its van 
Glittering the Legion Partisan. 

But Laurens and Carlos chief behold 
With joy the well-knou^n green and gold, 
And see the eagle pennon wave 
In fair effulgence o'er the brave ; 
And even livelier joy it breeds 
To recognise the noble steeds, 
That to the charge their riders bear 
Like flashing thunderbolts of war, 
Or, saving victory's precious fruit. 
Deride escape or mock pursuit. 

XVIII. 

Behind their tossing manes elate 
Of heart and brow their riders sale, 
Bronzed o'er by toil and decked with scars, 
And gemmed with battle's glittering stars. 
Among them Rudolph, Armstrong shone, 
Manning, O'Neale, and Eggleston, 
Heard, Irwin, Carnes, and Carrington, 
Middleton, Lewis, and Harrison. 
Nor were the Legion infantry 
Less than their comrade cavalry 



152 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V, 

Known to renown or service high; 
But chosen by their leader's eye, 
And the command of Washington, 
From this whole army, every one 
Some noble deed had shared or done ; 
And Michael Rudolph of their ranks 
Won of their Colonel's love and thanks 
And confidence, as much or more 
Than any who adorned his corps. 

XIX. 

But towering over all his band 

In fame and merit as command. 

With beaming brow and martial air 

Sat their young leader on his mare — 

His dark brown mare of presence high, 

And nostril spread, and glancing eye. 

And limbs with speed clothed as with wings, 

And neck with sabre-lightenings, 

That snuffed the battle from afar, 

And mid the trumpets said, Ha ! Ha !* 

And furnished in perfection high, 

A setting for the army's eye.f 

XX. 

His form so slight, such rounded limbs. 

His hand so soft and small. 
He seemed more formed for ladies' whims, 

Than for the battle's brawl ; 

* He saith among the trumpets. Ha ! Ha ! and smelleth the battle 
afar of^.—Job, 39 : 25. 

t So General Greene called Colonel Lee. 



Canto V. MAID OF THE DOE. 153 

But in his linements they trace 
His lineage from that Norman race 

He emulates in fame, 
And say, so thick and early bloom 
His laurels, from his mother's womb 

That he a soldier came.* 

XXI. 

River of swans, thy glorious wave 

Its brightness to his birth-place gave — 

From thy south shore, great stream of swans, 

Came the great Lees and Washingtons ;t 

Thy border of the eagle wreath| 

Gave to them all their natal breath, 

And seems with eagles and with swans 

To typify its mighty sons. 

For theirs was the bosom's downy store, 

And theirs the genius aloft to soar; 

And the eagle's pinion, and soft and bright 

Breast of the swan their types unite 

To symbolize this one aright. 

Whose visage sparkled now with joy, 

Laurens to see and his minstrel boy. 

XXII. 

But little time had those to greet 
Whose safety rested in retreat. 

* Mr. Randolph, in one of those rambling speeches he used to 
make in the Senate, attributed this remark to General Washing- 
ton, I think I saw it in General Charles Lee's letters. ■ 

t The Revolutionary Governor Lee, of Maryland, was of the 
same family. See note E. 

t I have seen as many as seven eagles on one tree near the spot 
where General Washington was born. 



154 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V. 

Soon was in motion put the van 
Upon the route to the lower Dan, 
By Carrington's advice, for he 

Could gather along its course 
Boats to transport the infantry, 
And men and arms of the cavalry, 

And well could swim the horse. 

XXIII. 

Greene, too, to check the Earl's career, 
And save from Tarlton pressing near, 
His straggling wings or lagging rear, 
Formed of the flower of his force, 
An active corps of foot and horse. 
Howard, and Washington, and Lee, 
Shone in its sparkling galaxy 
Of heroes ; and the noble band 
Was pressed on Morgan's high. command. 

But worn with toil, and racked with pains 
Contracted on Canadian plains, 
Forced to disease at length to yield, 
With laurelled brow he left the field, 
And turned his tired step once more 
To the bright vale of Shenandoah. 

XXIV. 

With grief the army saw him go ; 
And Greene determined to bestow 
Of the light corps the chief command 
On Otho Williams, of Maryland. 

Soldiers and comrades, heart and voice, 
Confirmed the General's happy choice ; 



Canto V. MAID OF THE DOE. 155 

For nature gave and art improved 
The talisman which made him loved ; 
^A beauteous form and manners kind, 
Benevolence and noble mind, 
And yet in lovely soul and face 
Descends its magic to his race. 

XXV. 

At the first beat of the first drum 
From that fair region did he come, 
Where mountain streams in joyous league 
Roll through the vale of Conecocheague ; 
Sweet pastoral realm, he left its hills 
Of plenty and peace for war's drear ills ; 
And scarcely yet to manhood grown 
Took the long march to Boston town. 
Where his first share in strife he bore, 
Lieutenant in a rifle corps. 

By merit quickly raised, he saw 
Every vicissitude of war — 
Success, captivity, defeat ; 
And wounds 'twas once his fate to meet. 
But partial fortune could not bear 
Again to mar a form so fair, 
And bore him even through the storm 
And wreck at Camden free from harm, 
Though first that battle's fire he sought. 
And shining through disaster fought. 
Now tricked for war he shines once more, 
The leader of the brave light corps. 



156 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V. 

XXVI. 

His duty now to hang between 
Cornwallis and the army of Greene, 
And every toil and danger brave 
That to impede and this to save, 
Close to the foe at once he drew, 
And cross their front his cohort threw. 

XXVII. 

The imposing show of foot and horse 
Brought to a pause the hostile force. 
Which in loose rank was stretched along, 

As when at even-tide, 
In wavering line, and clamorous song 

The swans in ether glide. 
So these along the plain were strung 

As best might serve their haste ; 
For the sole thought their quarry brought 

Was how he nimbly raced ! 
But now a gallant chief they see 

A bold battalion wield. 
Against his daring enemy 

At once a sword and shield ; 
And quickly thence in self defence, 
The Earl must make his line condense. 
And move more circumspect before 
The ready arms of such a corps. 

XXVIII. 

By day the Legion Partisan 
Hovered in sight of O'Hara's van, 



Canto V. MAID OF THE DOE. 157 

But the Light corps at evening's close, 
To keep unbroken their short repose, 
Took larger distance from their foes. 
For widely set was their strong piquet ; 

And in two nights and days. 
Not one his head on its leafy bed, 

But once in slumber lays. 
And half-way on from midnight to dawn 

As the cold watch-stars steal. 
Those slumbers break, and the road they take 

To get their only meal. 
But to sweet reward no task is hard, 

And light is the labor of love ! 
And close and large to shield their charge 

And baffle their foe they move ; 
As the noblest bird of the wild wood 
To save from harm his littlef brood, 
Runs with lame pace and drooping wing. 
The danger on himself to bring; 
And sounds his shrillest larum note, 
Rears the black ruffle round his throat, 
And practises each gallant w^ile 
That nature taught him to beguile 
Destroyers, and no peril shuns, 
So he can save his darling ones — 
Thus threatening, courting, giving blows, 
Baffled the bold Light corps its foes, 
And round its precious charge fond wings 
Spread to protect its slumberings. 

XXVIII. 

Thus o'er the Carolinian plain 
Stretch in three lines, the Dan to gain, • 
14 



158 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V. 

Two armies and the severing corps ; 
The last, Corn wallis just before, 
And to his right — while lower down 
And more advanced, Greene hastens on. 
The Earl thus on the upper route 
Shuts from the fords the patriots out, 

And hopes the whole to sweep 
Away while yet the brimming tide 
Restrains them to the southern side 

Of the river broad and deep. 
And adding stratagem to force, 
He left his van to keep its course, 
And sudden and swift his columns bent 
Into the road where Williams went. 

XXIX. 

He, as his wont was, hoped to steal 

An hour for his soldiers' meal; 

And round their fires burning well, 

Inhaling from the coals the smell 

Of broiling viands, his soldiers stood, 

While near the horses eat their food ; 

This the sole hour they may employ 

in sweet repast and social joy; 

And sweet indeed in martial life 

Are those brief moments snatched from strife 1 

XXX. 

The winter morning wet and drear 
Made then their fire-lit scene more dear, 
And joke and jollity passed around, 
When, hark! they hear a galloping sound, 



Canto V, MAID OF THE DOE. 159 

And see on a meagre poney strain 

In russet brown a country swain. 
That the foe was nigh his honest eye 
Told clearly as his tongue ; 

And Armstrong, of course, with a plump of horse 
At once to saddle sprung. 

And from Carrington, who waited on 
O'Hara, then they heard, 

To let them know how strangely slow- 
He moved with the vanguard. 

XXXI. 

Then Colonel Lee how things might be 

Was ordered to explore ; 
For what Williams's band was to Greene's command 

Was Lee's to the Light corps. 
He mounted the mare, he set so fair, 

And to strengthen the bold Armstrong, 
Who had but a group of his sorrel troop, 

He took the rest along. 
They galloped far and nothing saw : 

But with some who can swiftest speed, 
Must Armstrong ride with his rustic guide, 

And the Earl's position read. 
So they mounted him on a swift of limb. 

And on his poney slow 
To Williams back must their bugler pack, 

And let him their progress know. 

XXXII. 

Forward the gallant Armstrong hied. 
While through the wood by the road side 



160 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto \\ 

Slowly retired Lee ; 
When fire-arms in sharp discharge, 
And clang of steeds in eager charge 

Announce the enemy. 
The Legion leader's, falcon eye 
Saw Tarlton's troopers sweeping by 

At Armstrong's swifter group, 
And from his covert by the way 
Like that keen bird upon hi^ prey. 

Darted in eager stoop. 

XXXII 

But, ah ! he gains them not before 
His bugler to the ground they bore, 
And, even while he prostrate laid. 
Mangled with many a trenchant blade ! 
What boots it him his murderers stain, 
Sabred in turn and chased and ta'en ? 

As death's cold night was gathering nigh. 
He saw his Colonel's flashing eye, 
And heard his voice denouncing death 
To those whose blows he fell beneath, 
E'ei^ while he prayed with plaintive breath 

That they his youth would spare : 
" For see, I am defenceless now. 
Nor even at my saddle-bow 

A single pistol wear !" 

XXXHL 

Towards their captured captain, Lee 
Was softened into clemency. 
By a tale of his own humanity 



Canto V, MAID OF THE DOE. 161 

In the day of the Camden route: 
But when he saw the bleeding youth. 
And heard his piteous tale of truth 

The mercy-lamp went out. 
And turning on the man an eye 

In which was w^ritten *' thou must die f 
'He sternly said, ^'Here your life ends — 
Write your last wishes to your friends." 

XXXIV. 

The proffered leaf and pencil took 

The soldier, with a soldier's look : 

And as his doomer saw him write. 

He thought of the tender ties that might 

That beating bosom blend the while 

With others on his distant isle. 

And gladly heard upon his rear 

Videttes announce Cornwallis near.: 

For Miller was saved and all attained 

Of good his slaughter could have gained : 

Since cruel never, however keen, 

Were those sabres- again to the troops of Greene. 

XXXV 

But sorrowful the victors laid 

The expired boy* in the forest shade, 

The pressing foe no time affords 

A grave to dig him with their swords: 

* His name was Gillies ; and he was buried by Mr. Bruce, the 
hospitable farmer whose house he had just left. See a very inte- 
resting anecdote connected with this melancholy aiFair in Major 
Garden's second series, page 117. 
14* 



162 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V, 

And more they mourned their bugler dead 
Than triumphed in the captives made. 

XXXVI. 

But Earl Cornwallis pressed along, 
And Williams moved in order strong; 
The chafing Legion closing all, 
And watching every chance to fall 
On their pursuers, seemed with eye 
Reverted oft, but half to fly. 

XXXVII. 

Leaving this glittering veil before 

The enemy's eyes with the rest of his corps, 

Williams pushed on and gained the road 

In which Greene's wearied army trod. 

Hoping to get so far from foes 

As to give his troops one night's repose ; 

And reported this to the chief of his rear, 

Still to the enemy hovering near. 

XXXVIII. 

He as day began to fail. 

Learned he might gain the army's trail 

By a rude, obscure, but nearer road. 

Where a patriot farmer's plenteous board 

Would supply his soldiers the meal they lost 

That morn, when their path Cornwallis crossed. 

Then throwing his horse still nearer the foe. 

He bade his infantry onward go. 

And food for all in haste prepare ; 

For soon could the horses gallop there. 



Canto V. MAID OF THE DOE. 163 

XXXIX. 

Leaving a few for watch and ward 

To wait upon the Earl's vanguard. 

At proper time with will right good 

Darted the horsemen through the wood, 

And joyous reached the generous store 

For men and steed at the farmer's door. 

The honest man's benignant face, 

The blooming daughters' ministering grace. 

His sons' and servants' nimble pace, 

And over all the matron's sway, 

A snatch of sunshine on that day 

Of cloud and toil and slaughter threw. 

Which only soldiers' eyes can view. 

The gay young officers their aid. 

Would press upon each merry maid. 

And seldom mid their service spare 

To touch a hand or lock of hair. 

And as their conscious glances meet 

Breuthe some wild vow in whisper sweet, 

XL. 

But that was all the feast they knew — 
For, hark ! they hear the signals true — 

O'Hara presses fast — 
And is as nigh to the bridge hard by 

O'er which the sole road past, 
As they themselves. — " To horse ! to horse ! 

Support the sentries, cavalry ! 
And bend with utmost speed your course 

To gain the bridge, my infantry 1 



164 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V. 

Methinks from what they learned this morn. 
They will not press too rashly on." 

XLL 

And it was true. The lesson taught 
That morning, now advantage brought 
To the brave teachers. For at fault 
About the hostile numbers, halt 

The light troops of O'Hara's van — 
And this gives time to gain the bridge. 
And from destruction's threat'ning edge 

Save every horse and man. 
For so obscure the path they took 
They dreamed not peril there to brook. 
And the brief sweets of social bliss 
Made them unwontedly remiss : 
But the eager Earl by tory guiles 
Had learned 'twould save him several miles. 
And braved, a road to reach his foe, 
Where Greene nor Williams dared to go. 

XLII. 

Too fast he pressed for Lee's bold corps 

To raze the bridge they hurried o'er, 

And the vale which now they traverse yields 

A fair expanse of open fields. 

Some were, beneath the winter rain. 

Emerald with harvest's hardy grain, 

In meadow some, of tint less green. 

Where nibbled sheep and cattle lean, 

In others, naked showed the land 

Where shattered rows of cornstalks stand : 



Canto V. MAID OF THE DOE. 165 

-And hungry swine upon their hunt 
Of almost naught, complaining grunt. 

XLIII. 

But from the summit of the ridge, 

Which formed that valley's broom-straw edge. 

As on its open brow they go. 

'Twas beautiful to see below 

Cornwallis's bannered host. 
Along its brave, triumphant line 
O'Hara, Tarlton, Leslie shine, 
And Webster of the breast divine; 

But shone their chief the most. 
For not in noble rank and name 
Than merit and in well-earned fame 
Was the great Earl's the highest claim. 
The Legion sees the glory-blaze 
With eyes that kindle as they gaze, 
And still so near to O'Hara goes 
A stranger had not deemed them foes, 
Unless their demeanor at times be viewed 
At a wild defile or torrent rud«. 

XLIV. 

And now the darkness gathers fast, 

O w^ill they not repose at last ? 

No ! vainly spreads the sacred shade, 

The life-lamp to replenish made ; 

The Dan is near, and not a corps 

Of Greene's must reach the sheltering shore. 

So dreamed the Earl, and in despite 

Of cold and dark and starless night. 



166 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto V, 

Made soldiers trudge and horses tramp 
To break the slumbers of his camp. 

XLV. 

And what are those fires that blaze before 

The very eyes of the brave Light corps, 

In the form of a large encampment seen? 

'^ It must, it must, be the camp of Greene ! 

O some one haste and bid them fly, 

While for their safety we shall die. 

Aye, let us on Cornwallis wheel 

And make his staggering army feel 

What blows can desperate valor deal ! 

Was not this lesson taught the free, 

Ages ago at Thermopyte ?" 

These fire-words breathed from rank to rank, 

Soon Williams's ear delighted drank, 

And Eager Howard's breast did burn 

His bayonets on the foe to turn, 

And from its scabbard leaped the sword 

Of Washington to bathe in blood, 

And Lee's high bosom throbbed to claim 

A death-bed of immortal fame. 

And when they learned 'twas yesternight 

The troops of Greene those fires did light, 

Much grieved they seemed awhile, to be 

Robbed of such deed of chivalry. 

But soon with joy their bosoms glow 

Their charge in safety yet to know ; 

And when at length the impatient Earl 

Gave for a time his flags to furl, 



Canto V. JVIAID OF THE DOE. 167 

They sink into delicious sleep 

While faithful guards their vigils keep, 

XLVI. 

But brief as sweet was that repose — 

To-morrow Earl Cornwallis knows 

' That Greene must reach the Dan, 

And scarce the midnight watch is set 

Ere gun and gun of the vidette 

Announce O'Hara's van. 

Gaily the light troops take their way, 

For this they deem the crowning day 

Of their brave toil, their gallant care — 

To-night they'll breathe Virginian air, 

And on that proud and patriot shore 

In peace and plenty sleep once more, 

Their noble service nobly done, 
Their contest for an army won. 

XLVII. 

As hotly as Cornwallis pressed, 
He gave one hour for food and rest — 
That hour too did Williams take 
For men and steeds their meal to make 
And scarce again they took the road 
Before their joyous bosoms glowed 
To learn that Greene and all his train 
Were safe on the Virginian plain. 

And then a great example shined 
Of how the body's swayed by mind, 
For instantly with bouyant limb 
Seemed almost in the air to swim 



168 MAID OF THE DOE. Canlo V, 

The renovated infantry; 
But still upon the Legion's rear 
The brave O'Hara following near 

Rivaled their hot celerity. 

XLVIII. 

Williams approaching, now the Dan 
Left to control O' Harass van, 
That gallant Legion Partisan, 
And hastening to the river shore 
Was at the sun-set wafted o'er. 

The Legion infantry next hied 
Rapidly to the river side, 
And soon were ferried o'er the tide, 
While their comrade horse of sabres spread 
A dazzling veil round the column's head 
Which still O' Hara urged to pour 
Upon them at the river shorie. 

XLIX. 

And now appeal" the rising stars, 
And from his front the brave hussars 
Darted away. The waters splash 
As in them the stripped chargers dash ; 
While to the boats the riders leap, 
And in compacted squadrons keep 
The swimming horses. Floating wide 
Their long manes rippled with the tide. 
And terror in their eyes appears, 
And quiver the responsive ears, 



Canto V. MAID OF THE DOE. 169 

Till safely from their path of foam 
Up the Virginian bank they roam, 
And wait until their riders come. 

L. 

Last o'er the stream, the guardian group 
Of all, were Lee with Armstrong's troop, 
And Quartermaster Carrington, 
Safe to the shore of shelter borne. 
And chiefly by the latter's aid 
This passage of the Dan was made ; 
'Twas by his diligence and care 
That boats, collected every where 
Along the stream, were brought in store 
Enough to waft the army o'er. 
And now upon the saving banks 
That army welcomed him with thanks. 

LI. 

Swift to the river O'Hara pressed, 
But all was silence, all was rest ; 

Its bosom just freed of bold Hussars, 
To foam though lashed as their horses splashed. 

Now placidly mirrors the placid stars. 
These from their everlasting eyes 

Smile on the shifting scene ; 
And the unconscious river lies 

A peace-maker between 
The warring hosts, which sink to rest, 
Each knowing it had done its best, 
And calmly sleep on either plain 
As if they ne'er should toil again. 
15 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



CANTO SIXTH, 



THE MAID OF THE DOE 



CANTO SIXTH, 



THE CONFLAGRATION. 

I. 

Not this the moon, that steals from mom 

Up the star-flowered lea, 
As o'er the prairie a silver fawn 

. Before a bright Pawnee, 
As Phoebus glorious with his bow, 
And tinctured like the day-spring's glow — 
Not this the moon, whose rounded splendor drew 

Homage from all the twinkling train, 
And the soft glory of her mantle threw 

Upon her mountain reign, 
When last the soon-to-sever pair 
Of lovers saw her shining therCo 

n. 

O precious page of memory's book, 
Where whisper sweet and sweeter look, 
15* 



174 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VI 

Soft, transient things of breath and ray. 

Live freshly till our dying day ! 

How oft amid his battle broils, 

How oft amid his marching toils, 

Did Laurens still a moment earn 

To that delicious page to turn ! 

'' Where on the mountain loves to go 

Now the lone maiden of the doe? 

Turns to this plain her anxious eye 

From where her watch-tower scales the sky ? 

Sweet being, but to earth half-given ! 

In naught but half-way down from heaven ! 

O hastes she now on her homeward path 

To tjie flowers I warmed from her own hearth? 

Is still her slumbering beauty hid 

Beneath the panther coverlid 1 

And when its fur receives her knee 

Is one pure prayer still- breathed for me?" 



III. 



While such soft thoughts his toils beguiled 
The hostile fire had swept the wild. 

The very moon whose round of rays 
Last held them in united gaze, 
Lit the sweet maid with waning beam 
By mountain precipice and stream, 

The night she fled and to rescue led, 
Her father from his foe, 

The loyal band he kept at hand 
Upon the creek below. 



Canto VI. MAID OF THE DOE. 176 

IV. 

For Ruthlyn heard the mountaineers 
Had sent a band of volunteers 
From wild New River's hills, to press 
In haste to Greene through the wilderness, 
And tell him that the mountains' sons, 
, Kents, Prestons, and Floyds, 

Peytons, Lewises, Cloyds, 
And many other gallant ones, 
Would to his aid with rapid pace 
Soon come by the old Buffalo trace, 
And to urge a prayer that to meet them there 

His orders he would send 
By those volunteers of the mountaineers, 

Whither their course to bend, 

Y. 
These mountain sons were of those wild ones 

The savage borders breed. 
Who often the chase on the Indian race 

From bear and buffalo speed. 
And like their quarry they pursue 
Their way on foot, as tireless too. 
Sparkled their eyes at the tale of the prize , 

Upon the mountain crest ; 
For Ruthlyn told of treasures of gold 

Hid there in a human nest, 
And the beauty of the sweetest bird 
That ever mountain echo heard, 

VI. 

That waning moon, to see it rise, 
And greet it with the sacrifice, 
Whose incense is devoted sighs. 



176 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VL 

The maiden left her bed ; 



For on the fair and fading page 

Which love hath conned from age to age. 

Despite the counsels of the sage, 

Of love she nightly read. 
She deemed that Laurens's eye of blue 
Was fixed upon the love-leaf too, 
With gaze as fond and faith as true, 

When her soft musing's flow- 
Was broken by the startled bound. 
The sudden pause and wild look round. 
And the spread nostril's fear-breathed sound 

Of her alarmed doe. 
Dares hungry wolf to prowl so nigh, 
Or panther with his greenish eye ? 

Screened by the cabin, she glided round 
To where its shadow darkened the ground, 
And wrapt in the panther's tawny hide 
She may observe nor be descried. 
Distinctly soon wild forms she sees 
Stealing along behind the trees; 
And from the conduct they pursued 
Knew they could not be there for good. 

*' Father, awake!" she softly cried 
Through the window at the cabin's side, 
" A fearful foe is lurking nigh — 
I to the camp below will fly, 
And quickly will your faithful band 
Deliver you from hostile hand." 

VII. 
No more she said, but keeping the screen 
^ Of cabins herself and the prowlers between, 



Canto VL MAID OF THE DOE. 177 

Down the steep mountain side she goes 
With footstep rivaling her doe's. 
Faster she flies as through the dark 
Now breaks the watch-dog's furious bark, 
And as an answering rifle rings 
Fear and affection lend her wings. 
'Tis scarcely credible how soon 
Glittered beneath the waning moon. 
The sword or bayoneted gun 
Of those who to the rescue run. 
Led by the maiden as they go, 
And she out-speeded by her doe. 

VIII. 

Meanwhile, could scarcely from his door 
Her startled father look, before 
The fierce marauders reached it too, 
And threats denounced of all they'd do 
Unless he gave to them his gold, 
And child to their conductor bold. 

IX. 

" Aye, sir !" said Ruthlyn, stepping forth, 
*' You know how long hath sacred troth 
To me been plighted by the maid, 
And how thou hast for gold betrayed 
My love, your country, and her cause ; 
But justice hath eternal laws, 
And by her endless reign prevails 
To balance all things in her scales. 
Your fate now trembles on their beam, 
And this her sentence thou must deem : 



J 78 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VL 

This hour give Flora to my sighs, 
And thy ill-gotten gold a prize 
To these brave patriots, and free 
The rising sun your steps shall see. 
Consent at once ; for waste of breath 
Were other words, and instant death. 
Thou know'st I brook not whining strife — 
See for thy bosom bared the knife !" 

X. 

He turned, and saw in the icy beam 
Of the moon the cold steel icier gleam 
In savage hands reared o'er his head. 
And his wife's aspect glazed with dread 
At the fell sight ; yet calm in thought, 
His mind a glimpse of safety caught 
From Flora's flight ; and in delay 
Alone he knew that safety lay, 
And therefore anger, scorn and pride 
Sternly repressing, thus replied. 

XI. 

** Why should it more your honor shock 

To force my will than force my lock ? 

Since you have me, what here is mine 

By the same potency is thine. 

The treasure which the royal cause 

To my control or keeping draws, 

By war's stern rights, which serve the strong, 

Would to my conquerors belong. 

But that did with my baggage go 

This evening to the creek below — 



Canto VL MAID OF THE DOE. 179 

It being my purpose to have gone 

From this bleak dwelling with the morn. 

Some little money in my purse 

Is here, yours by the rights of force, 

And similar rights will rise elsewhere 

When similar force you carry there. 

As to my daughter, on her voice, 

Sole let it rest to make her choice. 

If now she will her hand bestow 

As you desire, why be it so. 

If she will not, the patriot cause. 

Which equal rights by equal laws 

Boasts to establish and maintain, 

Will never brook for transient gain, 

To have the innocent and young 

To the base ends of violence wrung— 

Nor these the men, of souls so brave, 

To treat a lady like a slave." 

XII. 

Some of the borderers, though rude, 

Had in their bosoms much of good. 

These touched by Hamilton, proclaimed 

His propositions fairly framed. 

And swore that they were much more ready 

To serve than to offend a lady. 

From this to wrangling they proceed, 

When after some time 'twas agreed 

To search the house while the mother went 

To bring the daughter to consent 

At once to give away her hand. 

And go at morn with the patriot band. 



180 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VI 

XIII. 

Though empty rooms confirmed the tale 
Of Hamilton, they did not fail 
To search the cabin o'er and o'er, 
Above the joice, beneath the floor, 
All save the little close-barred room. 
Where they the trembling maid presume, 
Of strife, of even love afraid, 
Upon her mother's bosom laid, 
Startled to leave that hallowed nest, 
Yet panting for her lover's breast — 
So much had Ruthlyn's specious arts 
With falsehood prepossessed their hearts. 

" Come, my young bird!" exclaimed a voice 
At length, " 'tis time you made your choice — 
Give us a peep at your dainty charms, 
And bless your lover's longing arms. 
What! not a word? Pshaw 1 open the dooi , 
We have not time to joke much more !" 
The anxious mother begged delay. 
And a little while their hands they stay ; 
But anger from impatience grew, 
And soon they rend the door in two, 
And Ruthlyn started to find alone 
The parent bird, the young one flown. 

XIV. 

Then all to rage and riot grew 
To miss the gold and maiden too, 
And, then, to deem that daring guile 
' Had robbed them of the double spoil, 



Canto VI MAID OF THE DOE. 181 

Inflamed them to the height. " Come on !" 

Cried of the gang the fiercest one ; 

'* This grey deceiver straight shall guide 

To where his gold and daughter hide. 

As to the force their valley holds, 

'Tis easy, locked in slumber's folds, 

To kill the vermin in their holes, 

And rid the region of the pest 

Which shames it in that tory nest. 

And this one, they have hung so high, 

Let it in smoke and ashes fly 

Still nearer to the invaded sky ! 

The cub her dam will follow, when 

The fire has seized upon their den, 

And the blaze will scare that painted flesh 

He longs to taste, to Ruthlyn's mesh," 

XV. 

He said, and the fiercest the torch applied 

To the cabin, and all down the mountain hied, 

Their captive forced on and Ruthlyn their guide, 

And the mother followed, though apart, 

As prompted by her tender heart. 

•' Ah ! hah !" cried Ruthlyn, '* I see her doe ! 

Flora is not far off' I know — 

See yonder through the moon-streaked shade, 

How lightly flies the sylvan maid!" 

He said, and to overtake her flew, 

And the fiercest borderers follow too, 

But ran not far before 
The soldiers that lay by her pathway 

A murderous volley pour, 
16 



182 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VI 

And fiercely forth with bayonets bound 
And pin the crippled to the ground. 
The rest fly off with panting breath, 
And darkness shelters them from death. 

XVI. 

O joyous was the meeting then 

Of child and parent, chief and men; 

'' But come, my friends, we must hurry on, 

And leave the mountain with the dawn ; 

The rebels soon may haste in wrath 

To intercept us on our path ; 

Besides 'tis time for bosoms true 

On our dear Haw to rendezvous. 

These here whom death's dark shade o'erspreads. 

Must lie where treason made their beds." 

XVII. 

Thus spoke their leader, and. the word 
His followers obedient heard ; 
But paused, and marvelled much to view 
Ruthlyn among the slaughtered crew, 
And wondered more what evil power 
Betrayed him to the fatal hour. 
Much musing on the strange event 
In awe and silence on they went. 
While the left cabins flaming high, 
Threw a fierce glare on earth and sky, 
And stained with red and sparkling blaze 
The silver tissue of moon-rays. 

XVIII. 

Mourned the soft virgin to behold 
In winding sheet of fire rolled 



Canto VI MAID OF THE DOE. 183 

The cot to tender memories so dear ! 

Oft bared to winter sleet and breeze, 

The torn bird nests on naked trees 
Had caught her eye and filled it with a tear, 

And now her own wild mountain nest. 

Which deeper, holier joys had blest, 
' And love with all its care had dressed — 
How its consuming blaze her sight did sear ! 

She hurried away from the scene of woe, 

But oft exclaiming " O where's my doe ?" 

" Would we could find her !" the father said — 
" But spreading soon from the mountain's head, 

The fire will sweep the wild — 
And though she loose her gentle doe, 
For what she saved will bear, I know, 

A grateful heart my child. 
Stern is the fate that drives us on, 
And see yon star portends the dawn." 

XIX 

While these pursued their anxious way 
Fell Ruthlyn on the mountain lay — 
No wound had stopped the vital breath, 
But maimed, he counterfeited death. 
Now raising from the chilling ground 
His head, he cautious looked around, 
But nothing saw in the lurid glare, 
Of those he allured by promise fair, 
Save such as were around him strown. 
He listens even for a groan 
To give him hope that some one nigh 
Might but in feigned extinction lie. 



184 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VL 

But no ! not even that dismal sign 
Of comfort, guilty one, was thine ! 

Next in a whispered voice of dread 
He called ; but silence held the dead. 
Then loud and louder still he spoke ; 
But naught save mocking echo woke. 
''0! O!" at length with frantic tone 
He howled, "and am I left alone 
With shattered limbs and wasted blood 
To perish in this savage wood V- 

Then from the earth he strove to rise, 
But was held down by agonies. 
Next he essayed to drag his length 
Along the ground, but had not strength. 
Then with that horror-looking eye, 
Which sees the death it cannot fly 
In all its terrors glaring nigh, 
He viewed the world he lived to mar, 
And met reproof in every star, 
That with its eye serene, sublime. 
Looked from eternity on time, 

*' Alas!" he cried, "that we, whose day 
Is but the twinkle of a ray. 
Should let is briefest passion-flame 
Betray us to eternal shame, 
And, what is worse, if any faith 
Of man be true, to endless wrath I 

**But weighed on the great mercy-beam, 
O am I guilty as I seem ? 
Pure was the fire that warmed my soul 
Until it burned beyond control. 



Canto VL MAID OF THE DOE, 185 

Spurned where I loved, to madness stung» 
By jealousy's wild tortures wrung, 
Still my design was to have won 
To bliss through me my worshipped one. 

*'And when upon this horrid night 
I sought the mountain's cottaged height, 
I'deemed it sure her father's gold, 
Which I'd repay a hundred fold, 
Would send away my wild allies 
And leave me with my darling priz€ : 
And the first shock of wrong soon past, 
Peace would abound and rapture last. 
But gold and daughter both away, 
To passion and surprise a prey, 
Swept by a tide I could not stay 
To desperate crime my steps were bent, 
Scarce conscio-us of the course they went. 

'•I'm not the first thus down to drop 1 
Who after the fi^rst step can slop ? 
That little step which seems so small— - 
Aye, thence proceeds the endless fall ! 
That is the sea-puss* by the verge 
Of the depths of crime, to feed their surge. 
The outward eddy of the whirled 
Down gulph which ends in sin's dread world ! 
For that leaves our good Angel's side. 
And welcomes Evil for its o-uide. 
She hastening from the light that shines 
From virtue on her dim confines. 



* So is the under-current called, so often fatal to bathers in the 
breakers, along the sea-shore. 
16* 



186 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto Yl 

In some delusive shape of bliss 
Allures to her abhorred abyss. 

" But who my palliative shall know? 
Ye winds, O tell it as ye blow! 
Ye stars, so read from age to age, 
Blaze it on your unfading page ! 
And moon, when wolves have ceased to prey, 
And my bones whiten in your ray, 
Let from thy gentle brow be beamed, 
' He was not guilty as he seemed ! ' 
Vain ! vain ! my memory in the land 
Will wear the traitor's double brand. 
And in the realm to which I haste 
How shall I look, with whom be faced? 
Caught in the manor,* as they say, 
And swift to judgment borne away ! 

'^ Man. man ! what is it makes thee dare 
To mar thy maker's work so fair. 
To bring on law and order blight, 
And think that thou can'st set it right % 
O 'twas my fatal error ! I 
Thought good for bad might pardon buy, 
But caught amid my crimes, I die 
With treasons, rapine, falsehood foul ! 

" Wolves, ye may well in chorus howl 
To such night-told confessions ! Hear ! 
Methinks their clangors gather near — 
What balls are those in lurid glare 
Approaching with their awful stare? 
And I see long teeth gleaming white 
In the fell blaze that scares the night ; 

* A law term, which signifies being taken in the act of guilt. 



Caiito VI, MAID OF THE DOE. 187 

They've scented blood, with hunger gaunt 
They come — Fierce fiends, avaunt ! avaunt ! 
O Thou upon the mercy throne, 
Let these my agonies atone." 

Perished his prayer in the death-groan : 
And left was now the lifeless clay 
To beast and bird and flame a prey. 

For as enlarged the fire became 
The mountain reared a crest of flame. 
And stalked before the morning's beam 
The conflagration's lurid gleam. 
The ravens, startled from their sleep, 
On their black wings in circles sweep, 
And scenting soon the awful feast 
Swelled with their croak the howl of beast. 

But when before the kindling day. 
The moon began to pale her ray, 
And stars to vanish one by one 
Behind the glory of the sun, 
Before his step the winds respire, 
Then swept the wild a flood of fire. 
And made the dead a funeral pyre, 
Scorching the fell wolf from his prey. 
And driving the dark bird away. 

The golden eagles high in air, 
Quickly reflect the lurid glare, 
And to the earth-born clang and gleam, 
Defiance, as they circle, scream. 
But as the rising sun illumes 
The kindred glory of their plumes, 



188 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VI 

Fuller to feel the nobler fire, 
High their gyrations go and higher, 
Traeing in air the circling spire, 
That fancy shapes as never ending, 
On which ascending and descending, 
The heavenly influences beam* 
Like angels in the patriarch's dream. 

XXI. 

Should fancy whence those eagles fly 
Throw round her comprehensive eye, 
*'T would view below a mountain waste 
With silver streams minutely laced, 
Where nature in her artist freaks 
Strewed darksome dells by sunny peaks. 
Made barren vales, and richly spread 
The meadow on the mountain's head. 
A speck the mighty hills among, 
'T would see a party toil along 
Of men and women, of the train 
Some mounted, whose pack-horses strain 
Beneath their burdens. Bayonets gleam 
Among them ; and their faces beam 
With joy, the mighty plain to view 
Below them stretching wide and blue, 

* " the spirit's ladder 



That from this gross an,d visible world of dust 
Even to the starry world, with thousand rounds 
Builds itself up ; on wliich the unseen powers 
Move up and down in heavenly ministries." 

Coleridge's Wallenstein of Schiller. 



CayUo VL MAID OF THE DOE. 189 

As from the meadows they began 
To approach the pinnacles of Dan. 

And o'er that plain it might behold 
The flight of Greene and Morgan rolled, 
Destined by that same stream to rest, 
Here springing from the mountain's breast: 
And yonder armies and this train 
Strive the same neighborhood to gain. 
And Hwixt their reaching, those the Dan, 
And this the Haw, was short the span. 

'Twas sweet to the mountain refugees 
To view their old domestic trees, 
And sweeter to see the mighty Earl 
Their enemies from their country hurL 
And the royal banner in triumph fly 
Alone beneath their natal sky. 

XXII. 

And bustled Hamilton about 
With Pyle and others to bring out, 
Respondent to Cornwailis's call. 
The young and brave in arms^ and all 
Who loved the king and kept his laws, 
To show themselves and aid his cause * 
And oft the mountain refugee 
His kinsman Hamilton would see, 
A gallant loyalist now bent 
To fill his waning regiment. 
And much they labored in accord, 
And counselled with their general Lord, 
Who to their views assistance lent. 
And Tarlton up Haw river sent. 



190 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VI 

The loyalists to strengthen there 
And drive the patriots to despair. 



XXIII. 

One night this dashing cavalier, 
Who loved war, women, and good cheer, 
At Hamilton's found lady-charms 
A sweet exchange for men-at-arms, 
And Flora with her radiant eyes 
Awaked his graceful gallantries. 
Gaily he talked of battle scenes, 
With rapture spoke of beauty's queens, 
And hinted Carolina's plain 
Had furnished one o'er all to reign. 
The lovely object of his praise, 
Heard it with such a listless gaze, 
That he felt piqued to make her show 
Her beauty in emotion's glow. 

XXIV. 

" I fear,'* he said, ''the country here 
Seems flat to my fair mountaineer, 
Or that her wishes linger yet 
Too fondly with some mountain pet. 
I cannot hope her doe to meet. 
But if their steeds be not too fleet 
I'll catch a stripling of Lee's corps 
To wait upon her steps once more, 
Or dark-eyed minstrel boy to sing 
Of beast arrested in his spring." 



Canio VL MAID OF THE DOE. 191 

XXV. 

The nymph's confusion and surprise 
Were pictured in her cheek and eyes. 
And Tariton, to allay again 
Feelings which seemed to give her pain, 
Resumed: '^ You see how rumors fly ! 
And those the lightest, fastest hie, 
And never yet our army missed 
One of a lovely loyalist." 

XXVI. 

" Then tender them our thanks, I pray," 
Said Flora, striving to be gay, 
'^ And tell them when their fancies weave 
Around the frightened lives we live 
Tales of romance, we fondly deem 
Our being, like the soft moon-beam 
On some wild torrent quivering, 
Is dearer for its shivering. 
And tell them too, that from Virginia, 
We hope each Quixote's fair Dulcinea 
Will from her valorous knight receive 
Tidings, to bid her gentler grieve, 
Weekly, at least, by captive borne. 
Until her faithful knight return. 
But chiefly you to ear and sight 
So modelled from La Mancha's knight; 
Why .should you thus your eyes expand? 
You means not thou — you understand — 
I merely meant you brave to pray. 
That should the enemy come this way, 



192 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto \l 

You will remain to be our guard, 
Not save yourselves by riding hard !" 

XXVII. 

Tarlton replied : ''Sweet, mischievous one. 

That sparkle in your eye of fun 

Richly repays me for the jeer ; 

But dread (nor hope?) a foeman here — 

Not e'en the Legion Partisan 

Will ever dare to cross the Dan. 

Should they, I'll bring them captives all, 

And your own eyes shall choose your thrall." 

XXVIIL 

'' Thank you!" replied the lady bright; 
Lest you retract your promise light 
I had better haste to say good-night!" 

XXIX. 

*' O deem not so ! With every look 
'Tis deeper graved in memory's book, 
Among the vows that love acquaints 
The heart to offer to its saints." 

XXX. 

**'Tis fair you should revenge bestow so, 

By treating me as Del Toboso, 

For hinting in a way polite, 

I hope, at famed La Mancha's knight; 

Then, since we are even, let your plain 

Provincial say good-night again I" 



Canto VI MAID OF THE DOE. 193 

XXXI 

While speaking, in apparent glee, 
She bowed with graceful courtesy, 
Then turning, shed on her retreat 
A train of twinkles from her feet, 
*' What! gone?" he cried; and as from sight 
She disappeared, he heard good-night 
Repeated in that gentle tone 
The angel ones can breathe alone; 
And thus to soothe through eye and ear. 
She left him sounds and visions dear 
So when away the blue-bird flies 
On azure wings to azure skies, 
In heavenly voice and hue it shows 
Signs of the realm to which it goes. 
Thus this dear angel of the world, 
As to her couch her wings she furled 
Left on the intercurrent air 
Sweet tokens of the heaven there ; 
And the bold champion of the Earl 
Of nothing dreamed but the bright girl 



17 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 

CANTO SEVENTH. 



THE MAID OF THE DOE 



CANTO SEVENTH 



THE RETURN. 

I; 
Yet on Virginia's generous soil 
The patriot army rests from toil, 
And plenty blessed their bivouacs 
Tn hospitable Halifax ; 
Sweet realm of fair and fertile charms, 
Hugged in the Roanoke's bright arms,* 
While to her bosom her's prefer 
To hold her little Banister. 

By her brave sons as brothers pressed 
With all that kindness adds to rest, 
They happy talked of dangers gone. 
And happier of the hopes that dawn 

n. 

Apart the chosen corps of Lee 
Held their own camp of jollity, 

* The Dan and Staunton Rivers. 
17* 



198 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VI L 

Where surgeon Skinner shone, the soul 
Of mirth around their flowing bowl. 
His Falstaif form and tastes and fun 
Procured his soubriquet, Sir John. 
Fronfi every boon companion. 
And from his wit and mirth apart. 
There was a kindness in his heart 
Which made him of their bivouac 
In more than one sense the ^* sweet Jack.'' 

Though in the duel with his sword 
Or pistol ready, he abhorred 
The shock of armies and the roar 
Of battle ; and he said, to cure 
And not to kill a surgeon ought: 
And 'twas presumption if he fought — 
An arrogant aping of a trade 
For soldiers not for leeches made ; 
An arrogance which all should hate, 
And he would never imitate. 

A privileged one, he had his joke 
With all, to all familiar spoke. 
Ready, from his commandant down. 
With all for all things but a frown 

Though woman deeply he adored. 
His reign was at the festive board, 
And, with his martial mates around, 
The camp's rude goblet now he crowned.* 



* See Colonel Lee'ej sketch of Skinner, Mem : 2d edition, page 
260. And thinking the reader might be amused with a letter of his 
I found among General Lee*8 papers, T have inserted it in Note F. 



Canto VIL MAID OF THE DOE. 199 

*• My lads," he said, *'this full release 
From toil and strife, this glimpse of peace. 
These generous friends, this sheltering Dan^ . 
The plenteous board and flowing can. 
To crown them only want the fair. 
O would they deign our feasts to share 
My vote would make this spot our care. 
And let the poor pine-barren elves 
Of regions near protect themselves. 
Famine might guard them, I opine, 
From foes that ever cared to dine.'' 



IV 



*' Indeed, Sir John^ our fears were great 
During the movements made of late. 
That your chief title to renown 
Would have been lost, or much gone down : 
For many argue that your claim 
To Falstafl^'s humor, as his name, 
Unlike your model of knighthood, gams 
More from your corpulence than brains. 
Yet that had made more debonnair 
Your form for frolics with the fair,' 

V. 

•'And, pray, who tickled your ieanness's ear 
With tales of bags of bones being dear 
To ladies' fancies'? Don't they run 
With horror from a skeleton, 
And tempt with this and feed v/ith that 
Whate'er they pet, to keep it fat? 



200 MAID OF THE DOE, Canlo VII 

I've often in my fancy's regions 

Compared the tribe of men and pigeons^ 

There are the common sort, like you. 

Bred only or to roast or stew. 

There are the fan-tails, which puff out 

Their breasts, and sit or strut about 

With their spread plumes, the pets and blisses 

Of little bread-and-butter misses ; 

Just as the fops among you boys 

May be some very green-ones' toys. 

" Next comes the tumbler, which compares 
Well with ambition's vaulting heirs : 
For these as senseless soar in flight, 
And fall as headlong from their height; 
But then the bird, when tumbled down 
Saves oftener than the man his crown: 
And let one wild emprise miscarry, 
This fowl will paint our light-horse Harry, 
Though now by fortune's favor blest 
The eagle's feather decks his crest." 

VL 

" Of light-horse Harry thus? But soon 
Will he to Prince Hal change his tune„ 
With every nice addition strung 
That flattery loves to teach the tongue." 

VIL 

'• Nonsense ! You know his age yei leans^ 
Farther from thirty than his teens, 
That in his fame I joy in truth, 
And would aright direct his youth. 



Canto VII. MAID OF THE DOE, 201 

•' But you fly ofT as wild as widgeons. 
And spoil my catalogue of pigeons ; 
I'll punish you with the privation 
Of e'en my choicest illustration." 

VIII. 

••-Sir John, to pardon pray incline, 
Not more for our sakes than thine ! 
Think how each ear to hjear it yearns, 
And how your tongue to teli it burns \ 
And though unmoved you see us wrung, 
At least take pity on your tongue ! 
For should it blister, we opine 
You'd scarce enjoy this generous wine." 

IX. 

" Well said, my lads ! so pass it on : 

I ne'er was a hard-hearted one. 

So touching these same pigeons, stouter. 

Nobler than all, last comes the pouter ! 

Their pet of pets, the ladies dwell 

With rapture on his portly swell; 

His form, which, bursting, seems with sighs. 

Their fancy fills as well as eyes, 

And these in love-dews softly floating 

Show how their tender hearts are doating!" 

X, 

'• Bravo ! Ha f ha ! would not his sighs 
Make us believe he'd felt such eyes?" 

"Aye, that I have, when I was stouter, 
And better emblemed by the pouter. 



202 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto YIL 

And could we here awhile remain 
Might hope to meet such gaze again. 
But there's Prince Hal, and ah ! his gaze 
Some tiresome enterprise betrays; 
Yet save us, O ye powers divine, 
From all the barren realms of pine !" 

XI. 

•' Good news, Sir John ! The battle's dust 
Shall soon rub off the encampment's rust. 
So now dispel your cares in glee, for 
Cras ingens iterabimus cequor; 
Which means, my famous tun of man, 
To-morrow we must cross the Dan." 

XII. 

*' Recross the Dan ! My own Prince Hal, 
O rathex say we never shall ! 
Shield from the foe this river zone, 
And drive him back to starve alone : 
Leave famine, guardian of the pines, 
To thin my Lord's beef-loving lines, 
While Ceres, our ally, and Bacchus, 
Shall aid us here when they attack us." 

XIII. 

" O mighty champion in the wars 
Of those divinities, had Mars 
Like them inspired thee, how sure 
To conquest would'st thou lead the corps. 
But, plump one, for thy comfort hear 
^We shall avoid those barrens drear 



Canto VII MAID OF THE DOE. 203 

And have subjected to our law 
The pretty valleys of the Haw, 
If you will but the natives fright 
Enough to gain a conqueror's right; 
For now they scarce are neutral ground, 
So much the tories there abound. 
But, gentlemen, a parting draught — 
Sir John, to what shall it be quaffed?" 

XIV. 

'•^ Pass me the bottle, while I think 
Of something sage for you to drink — 
Have you all filled? Well, I propose : 
The wisdom which avoids one's foes, 
Fidelity to generous friends, 
And wit to take the good God sends," 

XV. 

^'.Therefore, Sir John, avoid the mesh 
Of every sinful lust of flesh ; 
Hold to your lancet still, and bleed 
Your friend, while you to fullness feed, 
And take, at least, quotidian twice 
A scripture recipe 'gainst vice." 

XVI. 

'' Sir John, we join in your libation, 

But with the Colonel's illustration, 

And add, to do it more genteelly, 

May those your skill may stick bleed freely I" 



204 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VII. 

XVII 

" Ditto to that!- — and towards your leech, 
I trust you'll practice as you preach ; 
I'll to my credit set a scorce 
For bringing wit into the corps. 
Prince Hal, these fellows have begun, 
You see, to aspire to a pun," 

XVIIl. 

^' Charge them, Sir John, for every one— 
But gentlemen, good-night ! The dawn 
Must see us o'er the river borne : 
Brave Pickens's martial salamanders, 
And Oldham's veteran Marylanders, 
The gallant expedition join, 
Rival your fame and swell your line. 
In naught of preparation fail. 
Not e'en a shoe must want a nail ; 
Bring all we have of strength and speed 
To serve us at the approaching need ; 
For though a maxim of our globe is 
That men propose and God disposes, 
His dispositions love to bless 
Skill, zeal, and valor with success, 
And let the cold and careless lie 
Beneath misfortune's frowning sky, 

*' Then, Armstrong, see the sorrel troop, 
Like meteors dazzle as they swoop ; 
Take care, O'Neale, each bright blood bay 
Shines like a courser of the day 



Canto VII MAID OF THE DOE. 206 

And, Eggleston, thy steeds of night 
Must from their darkness sparkle light. 

" Laurens, you will your wish obtain, 
Carlos will be with us again 
In place of the poor bugler slain. 
Although my friend whose life he saved 
To loose the merry urchin grieved. 
He yielded to my stronger right 
And will despatch him here to-night. 
Again with morning's earliest glow, 
Your troop will hear his bugle blow." 

XIX. 

And true, at dawn the warrior train 
Was marshalled by his leading strain, 

And soon in boats o'er the river floats 
And traverses its southern plain. 
Evening their covert encampment saw 
Near the road from Hillsborough to Haw, 
While parties of cavalry, on the scout, 
In either direction spread about. 

Nor day had dawned ere one returned, 
And told that Tarlton bound 

Beyond the Haw to give the law 
To loyalists around, 
Had marched with cannon and infantry, 
Besides his famous cavalry ; 
For general there was the loyal stir, 
And to aid it he came from Hillsborough. 

XX. 

And now the patriot cohort knows 

Before its steps a quarry goes, 
18 



206 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VIL 

That were a noble prize ; 
And guides aright to lead the hunt. 
And sharp videttes it throws in front. 

Its feelers and its eyes. 
Just so the panther wins his way- 
Unseen to spring upon his prey; 
And like this terror of the night 
It keeps the paths removed from sight. 
And hopes its prey shall feel its force 
While pausing at the water course. 

But reaching the great road they saw 
That Tariton's troops had passed the Haw, 
And now their way of ravage wended, 
'Mongst those who freedom's cause defended. 

XXI. 

With devastation hand in hand 
They swept this little patrio-t land, 
And plunder stalked from door to door, 
Nor spared the dwellings of the poor ; 
Those primitive spots, where man appears 
Companion half to all he rears. 
The dog his master's meal partakes, 
In the child's cup the kitten slakes 
Its hunger ; for her share of crumbs, 
The hen with all her chickens comes, 
And pigs excluded snuff the meal, 
And for their own in chorus squeal, 
Which to supply and stop their groan, 
The kindly house- wife hastes her own. 

And ever round the open door 
The cattle, horse, and woolly store. 



Canto VII. MAID OF THE DOE. 20' 

And at the cabin's sunny end. 
Where fruit trees o'er the low roof bend, 
The garden, mother and daughters tend ; 
And grain and meadow within view, 
Where sire and sons their toil pursue, 
Present a picture of the age, 
Sung in the poet's pastoral page. 

XXI I. 

But, ah ! its peace was fled from here ! 
The fathers gone, the mothers' care 
Hovered around the children dear, 
And each with tender ardor pressed 
To smooth the ravage done her nest. 

Devoted ones, still ply your toil, 
'Twill soothe the tears you shed the while, 
And helps each precious drop that starts 
To ease the burden from your hearts. 
Tears were not made to fall in vain ! 
Comfort grows in the gentle rain ! 
And every pearly drop now poured 
Doth serve to whet a patriot sword. 

Toil on! Indeed 'twas not worth while 
For men to blight your balmy smile, 
But every champion yonder seeks 
Again to light it on your cheeks. 

'Twas those enraged by civil broil, 
Who brought you to your tears and toil. 
Not dreaming that the swords were drawn 
To make, alas! their homes forlorn, 
Not by the ravage of their plain, 
But sires and sons surprised and slain. 



208 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto Vll 

XXIII. 

These now with hope and courage high, 
Dreamed not a patriot dared be nigh. 
And flocked in crowded rank and file 
To follow Hamilton and Pyle. 
These knowing Tarlton somewhere near, 
Sent out to find exactly where ; 
And glad their emissaries see 
So near the gallant corps of Lee. 
For easily the mistake arose 
Which for their friends mistook their foes, 
Since these were tricked in gold and green, 
Just like the Rangers of the Queen. 
And from the lips of the deceived, 
Poured joy to him whom they believed 
Tarlton himself, and joyous heard 
Returned each gratulating word. 

XXIV. 

Despite the veil of smiles, within 
Deep was that Partisan's chagrin. 
To find such quarry in his way. 
To balk him of the nobler prey. 
But quick his mind a scheme prepared, 
By which the natives might he spared ; 
Yet, if they dared his hand to stay, 
By Heaven ! they should rue the day. 
And o'er their ruin he might go 
To grapple with the worthier foe. 

XXV. 

On this resolved, he v^rith a smile 
' Sent Tarlton's compliments to Pyle, 



Canto VII MAID OF THE DOE. 209 

And begged he would his hand array 
Along the margin of the way, 
That to their quarters might pass on 
His own fatigued battalion. 

To Pickens then he tidings sent 
Of Pyle, and of his own intent ; 
Requesting he would keep unseen 
His squadron with their twigs of green ; 
For well the tories knew the sign 
Of the militia plumes of pine. 

Last, through the Legion were conveyed 
The orders instantly obeyed. 
Which close the column of horse arrayed; 
And at their head with bow and smile 
As the feigned Tarlton passed to Pyle 
Along his whole well ordered line. 
He made them many speeches fine 
About their good looks, spirit high. 
Their power to pursue or fly 
On their swift steeds, and the sure death 
Borne on their rifles' fatal breath. 

His soldiers, too, with smiling eyes 
View the array of new allies, 
To whom it much delight afl^brds 
To see the bright, presented swords ; 
And, lo! the chief of either band 
Clasps each, the other's proffered hand • 

XXVL 

But whence that firing in the rear, 
That shout of wild surprise and fear 7 

18* ' 



210 MAID OF THE DOE. CaiUO VII. 

The tories spy the plumes of pine. 
And read aright the hostile sign, 
And on the instant fire upon 
The rear troop under Eggleston. 

XXVII. 

Sprung to the charge the steeds of night, 
And swift descend the broad-swords bright, 
As sudden wheeled the glittering bays. 
Shaking as dread a sabre-blaze 
From their high manes, and onward flashed 
The fatal lightning, as dashed 
The sorrels, in their meteor-shine. 
Upon their victims' blasted line. 

XXVIII. 

A moment since from band to band 

Passed smiles and courtesy; 
Now, bleeding by the other's hand. 
One lies upon its native land. 

Or flees in agony. 
As when a lion turns and rends 
Those who were fondling him as friends, 
The vainly struggling tories die, 
Or horror-stricken, scream and fly. 

XXIX. 

All passed so sudden it might seem 

The phantasm of a hideous dream, 

But for the evidence around 

Strewed thick upon the bloody ground. 

There Pyle with many wounds seemed slain. 

But was restored to health again ; 



Canto VIL MAID OF THE DOE. 211 

And Hamilton, though saved from harm 
By Laurens's interposing arm, 
Stood sorrow-rooted to the field 
Where death so many hopes had sealed. 
And lowered with indignant eye 
That Laurens had not let him die. 

But not a prisoner was made, 
And not the least pursuit essayed 

Of those who from the conflict fled ; 
But scorning the unworthy foe 
That fortune thrust upon their blow, 

The Legion cavalry were sped 
On their predestined way, 
To see if Tarlton, who was near 
Enough the firing to hear. 
Was rushing to the fray. 

XXX. 

But Laurens hastened ere he went. 
To that old man with sorrow shent, 

Who stood as fixed and lone. 
As if, to those in death around^ 
He were upon their burial ground 

A sculptured votive stone. 
On the young warrior flashed the time 
When OR his mountain's brow sublime 

The veteran used to stand 
Gazing, with all that hope descries 
Of triumph painted in his eyes, 

Towards his native land. 
Now a like sunset gilds his hair; 
But, ah! the hope — 'tis buried there! 



212 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto Vll, 

And he, the left, the lone, the rent, 
Stands but its ruined monument ! 



XXXI. 

Bowed Laurens low as he drew near. 
And glistened as he spoke a tear ; 
" I trust you are not hurt, and trust 
None near to you distain the dust. 
And most of all, I trust, I pray — " 

But here with brow of scorn 
The old man turned abrupt away 

And motioned him begone ! 
When swift, without another word, 
To join his squadron Laurens spurred, 
And in stern silence on the plain 
Left the survivor with the slain. 

XXXII. 

But not his courser left behind 
The image of the daughter kind 

From that stern sire sprung : 
It rose above the column's tramp, 
Nor fled till Tarlton's startled camp 

Upon their view was flung. 
Then, " Why this pause on battle marge 7 
Why dont the bugle sound the charge?" 

Was asked by many a tongue ; 
And they frowned to see that Pickens and Lee 
In consultation so long should be. 



Canto VII. MAID OF THE DOE. 213 

XXXIII. 

These leaders deem it best 'till morn 
The keen sought conflict to postpone, 
Completer victory to earn ; 

Not dreaming that their foe 
Would under cover of the night, 
That safety seek in stolen flight 
He loved to win in open fight 

Beneath the day-beam's glow. 
Nor had he ; but from Hillsborough 
Came courier after courier, 

Bearing the Earl's behest 
For Tarlton's instant retrograde, 
Before the Legion's trenchant blade 

Should fall upon his crest. 
And with a heavy sigh he stole 
In darkness from the glory-goai 

Fixed in the battle field, 
And the first ray of morning saw 
His main battalion o'er the Haw, 

And thus its safety sealed. 

XXXIV. 

Such start from darkness' wing they gain, 
Their keen pursuers chased in vain, 
Though swelling now their gallant train 

The mountain warriors ride. 
Whose leader, Preston, sent before. 
To Greene for orders to his corps, 
Those who upon the mountain hoar 

In their marauding died, 



214 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto Y 11. 

Or fled away ashamed to tell, 

Or where or how their comrades fell. 

And to have saved this generous band 

From Tarlton's overhanging sword, 
Who left their mountain guarded land 

To shield their country where 'twas gored, 
And to enjoy the gallant aid 

Of arms so strong and hearts so true, 
Atonement to the veterans made 

For the rich prize whose loss they rue. 
Thus soothed, with happier hearts they saw, 

As up its western marge they went, 
In a fair valley of the Haw 

Rise light-horse Harry's graceful tent; 
Sign that awhile their labors close, 
And safety hovers round repose.* 

XXXV. 

Beneath the airy fabric long 

Had Lee consulting been 
With Preston, when its folds among 

He turned to write unseen, 
As an old man with stately tread 
Entering, to Preston bowed his head; 
His flowing locks were bleached by time, 

And grief had settled in his eye, 
But still he wore his brow sublime, 

And still his head was carried high, 
And anguish, though it sometimes shook 
His voice, could never reach his look. 

* See Lee*s Memoirs, vol. 2, for a not much more minute account 
of the operations above described. 



Caivto VIL MAID OF THE DOE. 215 

XXXVI. 

•'Time it would seem, sir," he begun, 
** Since last we met its work hath done 
Of change on one your kindness taught 
To deem him graven on your thought. 
For by your open door I've seen 
' The fountain gushing from its rock, 
And on your long-stretched meadow green 

The lowing herd and bleating flock, 
And what the mountains could afibrd 
Of luxury, on your generous board. 
So to my heart your kindness went, 
I made a mountain settlement, 
Not hence to fly from summer more 
Than to be somewhat near your door." 

XXXVII. 

*' O pardon, pardon !" Preston cries, 

^* That circumstances, change, surprise, 

Made me a moment recognise 

Your form so dimly, I scarce knew, 

My Hamilton, that it was you. 

But well I know you now ! and dear 

It is to meet you even here. 

And in this stormy time, which rends 

Asunder many bosom friends. 

But, save where duty stern controls, 

Be there no severance of our souls; 

Would you and yours, all safe from harms, 

Mv mountains circled in their arms!" 



216 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto Y II. 

XXXVIII. 

'' But lately, from the turmoil fled, 

Deep in those wilds I hid my head, 

Yet hunted like a beast, e'en there 

They seized me in my covert lair, 

And balked of their more precious game, 

Enraged, gave my rude den to flame. 

When Providence, through my sweet child. 

Redeemed us from the bandits wild. 

But how these strange events befell 

Another time must serve to tell. 

Though justice bids me here impart, 

It was a traitor barbed this dart — 

A leader in my loyal band — 

To win by force my daughter's hand. 

" Nor this the extremity of woe, 
This war unnatural makes me know, 
Where brother brother meets in strife,* 
And kin for kindred whet the knife. 
But yesterday beneath my care 
Were ranged my friends and followers dear. 
On me reposing they revealed 
The loyalty they long concealed, 
And gathered to the tented field. 
I saw them with confiding eyes 
Gaze on their foes in friendship's guise. 
And marked the look of horror come, 
While wonder held us still and dumb 



* Two brothers shot each other dead during the battle of King's 
Mountain. 



Canto VII MAID OF THE DOE. 217 

To see the steed-and-sabre-shine 
Burst sudden into crushing line. 
As the doomed victims see the flashes 
Of lightning blazing as it crashes, 
I saw them in their dying sighs 
Turn on my face reproachful eyes, 
la- which were writ in letters clear, 
' You brought us to the shambles here,' 
And while the rest are slain or fled, 
You stand and nothing harms your head. 

*' They did not know the magic charm 
Which interposed a saving arm 
Between my bosom and the steel, 
Which all the rest were doomed to feel : 
For even those who 'scaped with life 
Went bleeding from the fatal strife ; 
And cherish in their breats, I find, 
Suspicions of that cruel kind, 
Which plainly rested on my head 
From those then numbered with the dead. 

'' I know the laws of war allow 
Mankind the truth to disavow, 
I know that in its dreadful game, 
They falsehood may for truth proclaim, 
And by such practice cunning sows 
Dissension often 'mong its foes, 

'' But by our ancient amity, 
Our rites of hospitality, 
By all. that man from man may claim 
In friendship's, nay, in mercy's name, 
Spare what the pure most precious think 
When standing on their being's brink; 
19 



218 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VI I 

Let an unsullied character 
Gild my poor, gloomy sepulcre ! 
Make not my name with treachery soiled, 
Descend upon my only child ! 

''My struggles with this world are done; 
My race of toil, ambition, run. 
He whom his own have ceased to trust, 
His strength is shivered into dust ! 
What can I but perchance bestow 
Sometimes a drop of balm on woe, 
And with these silver locks afford 
Perhaps some shelter from the sword, 
For those to whom my broken wing 
Is yet the only covering?" 

XXXIX. 

Not the good man to whom he spoke 
The tale could hear, the sight could brook, 
Of age in anguish and despair, 
Nor yield his tribute of a tear. 
All that the kindest bosoms have 
Of balm, to soothe his grief he gave, 
'' And here is one whose easier task 
'Twill be to accomplish what you ask," 
He added, as the approaching one 
Offered his hand to Hamilton. 

XL. 

'' No ! sir," exclaimed indignantly 
The latter, as he frowned on Lee, 
I saw your hand, in friendly grasp, 
' That of my mangled comrade clasp ; 



Canto Vll MAID OF THE DOE- 219 

While by your Legion's cruel blade 
His followers in the dust were laid, 
And he himself beneath their brand 
Fell almost while he held your hand. 
Though war may justify the guile 
That hides a dagger in a smile, 
I cannot give my hand to those 
Who use such arts against their foes." 

XLI. 

From 'tother's brow g, moment broke 

The angry flash; but ere he spoke, 

The better feeling held its sway. 

" And for what chanced in wild melee, 

When self-preserving instincts guide 

Alone, will sage experience chide 1 

You saw we stood in peace until 

Your followers tried our blood to spill; 

Yo^ saw then 'twas not my command. 

But instinct raised my Legion's brand ; 

You saw the instant they had quelled 

The threatened danger, they withheld 

Their blows ; and thus your eyes have taught 

Yourself, not we your ruin sought ; 

But all we aimed at on that day 

Was to remove you from the way ; 

We trode to seek a different prey. 

" This to effect by prayer, not force, 
I risked the safety of my horse ; 
And had commenced entreating Pyle 
By all the ties of common soil, 



220 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VII 

By present safety to his band, 
To aid no more with armed hand 
The invaders of his native land, 
When your own conduct forced my corps 
To do what patriots must deplore — 
Distain their swords with native gore. 
And trust me, none who yielded life 
In that deplored, unlooked for strife. 
More than myself could wish, could pray 
That all had been at home that day. 

'* Had that been granted to my prayer. 
As sure as you are standing there 
The ruin of that ruthless horde 
Of Tarlton's had adorned my sword, 
And that destroyed e'en now had been 
Cornwallis full in flight from Greene. 

*• Then think not those you mourn thus slain, 
Poured out their loyal blood. in vam: 
The sources of that sanguine spring 
Have saved an army to your kmg; 
And if your ardor filled their ranks 
Well have you earned that monarch's thanks, 
And well deserve his people's praise 
To crown the sunset of your days ; 
And what truth may do I will aid 
To have that debt of justice paid." 

XLIL 

Glowed Hamilton's pale brow the while 
With almost a triumphant smile 
To hear a foeman's lips impart 
' Truths so delightful to his heart. 



Canio VJL MAID OF THE J)OE. 221 

Two of the staff of Tarlton's corps, 

Made prisoners the day before^ 

Here joined their conference, which turned 

Upon the mutual rage that burned 

So fiercely, through the civil broil. 

Upon the Carolinian soil ; 

And all agreed, the purest fame 

Would throw its halo round his name 

Who should extinguish the fell flame ; 

And counsels joined in amity 

To bring once more humanity, 

Even in war to fix her reign 

Upon that desolated plain ; 

And for that task benign of theirs 

Were happier at their evening prayers. 



19^ 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



CANTO EIGHTH 



THE MAID OF THE DOE 



CANTO EIGHTH. 



THE RESULT, 

I. 

Perchance when she, for man's supreme 
Enchantment made in Eden's bower, 

By the Hand dripping yet with beam 
And hues just wrought in star and flower. 

Was, amid the delicious sweets 

Of her new life, new earth, new sky. 

Ejected from the bhssful seats 

Of Paradise, and doomed to die — 

Ah ! then, perchance, when her sad eyes 
Watched that moon waste away from sight, 

Whose growth they witnessed in the skies. 
She deemed it ever lost from night, 

And thought that with her rose of Eden 

Had fled the lily-q^ieen of heaven. 



226 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VIIL 

II. 

If so, how sweet it was again 
To see her peep on evening's reign, 
And as her beauty waxed more bright, 
Her longer lingering on the night, 
Until to her full glory grown 
She^won from darkness' reign her own ! 

III. 

Just so when these sweet ones, in whom 
The charms of the first mother bloom, 
Droop their bright heads in the first shower 
Of tears — that erring mother's dower — 
They deem the drops must ever pour. 
And bliss show her sweet face no more. 

IV. 

But on the sorrow-limits soon 

Hope's crescent beams like the young moon, 

And growing as the gloom she wades, 

Drips a soft lustre on its shades. 

Till in the sun of joy she fades, 

As night's spent regent hastes to lay 

Her head upon the breast of day. 

V. 

But now not where for hope to go 
Knew the lost maid of the lost doe — 
In anguish and distraction lost ! 
For rumors wild her path had crossed 
Of fell encounter 'twixt the bands 
' Where sire and lover drew their brands ; 



Canto VIIL MAID OF THE DOEl. 227 

And many a bleeding one went by, 
But yet no father met her eye ; 
O did he with the wounded bleed, 
Or with the dead? and whose the deed? 



VL 



As these dread apprehensions passed^ 
Bowed her young head to sorrow's blast. 
Her calmer mother sitting near 
Could not restrain the welling tear. 
Though often from her soul would gleam 
A light upon the gentle stream. 
That tinged it with a rainbow glow, 
In which was shadowed, '* For I know 
That my Redeemer liveth."* Man, 
And canst thou ask, to life's brief span. 
Why evil by the all-good is sent. 
And infinite love lets hearts be renf? 
Wilt learn not from the Eternal's words. 
And all the examples time affords, 
He blights the ties to earth that clingj 
To let us to His bosom spring, 



Job, 19 : 25. This most comfortable of all truths, wrought 
into the sublimest poetry, was first impressed upon my attention by 
finding it engraved upon a large crystal, shown me by a daughter 
of that Col. Preston mentioned in these pages. If they ever meet 
her eye, I trust she will be pleased with this memento, of the in- 
struction, as well as pleasure I derived from her society. The crys- 
tal was found on her husband's estate, and cut and engraved at her 
instance. 



228 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VIII 

And startles us with wild alarms 
To make us feel his clasping arms, 
And from the touch, enjoy on earth 
A glow of the immortal birth, 
While the ennobling griefs prepare 
The heart for its enjoyments here'? 

VIL 

For let thy thought through nature range, 
And study the vast volume. Change 
Seems the great nurse of life and joy ; 
Death itself comes not to destroy. 
So much as to create, or give 
Room for created things to live; 
And life must still r^new its breath 
In sleep, the counterfeit of death. 

So change the seasons, days and hours ; 
And mind must have its sun and showers, 
Its night, its tempests, e'en as they 
That feed its tenement of clay, 
Else, not more than the physical world, 
Its wonders can it have unfurled. 

VIII 

Wouldst thou have life without a woe? — 
Whence could misfortune's grandeurs flow 1 — 
Whence fortitude, and pity's tear, 
To bring mankind to angels near ? 
Wouldst have no wants? — Where then the smile 
Of plenty crowning honest toil? 
No danger with its startling frown? — 
.Where then could courage win his crown? 



Canto VIII MAID OF THE DOE. 229 

No death ? — How in this kneeded clod 
Couldst ever hope to look on God ? 

O finite, as thou art, ne'er dare 
To wish things other than they are ! 
What thou call'st evil, understood 
Aright, is but the nurse of good — 
, The storm, which rouses as it jars ; 

The night, that brings the wondrous stars. 

Without the smile that beams from tears, 
Without the hope that springs from fears, 
The cares, ennobling vital breath. 
And e'en the majesties of death, 
Man's life would little have beyond 
A water-lily's in its pond. 

Rightly to use and rightly prize 
The inevitable, stamps the wise; 
And still to hope and bravely bear, 
Shows the true faith in heavenly care. 

IX. 

As of the hours, the most forlorn 

And dark is that before the dawn, 

And just before the new buds spring 

The forest is nakedest shivering. 

And earth most desolate is seen 

While zephyrs are bringing her mantle green — 

So human hearts are often drearest 

When all they pant for hovers nearest. 



A voice, a step, aroused the glance 
Of Flora from her sorrow-trance ; 
20 



230 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VIII 

Surely the voice — the step she knew — 
It enters — *' Carlos, is it you? 

you can tell us all ? Those eyes, 
They look not as if fraught with sighs !" 

'' No, I was hastened here to tell 
Your father is at hand and well ; 
Just now, by Laurens hither sent, 

1 left him in my Colonel's tent." 

'* A prisoner ?" " No 1" " How came he there V 

** Led by his will on some high care." 

" How 'scaped he when so many poured 

Their blood?" ^^ By Laurens's sheltering sword." 

'* O, dids't thou see this or surmise?" 

*• I saw it with these very eyes." 

''Mother.^ dost hear? Herald of bliss! 
Thanks, thanks ! and here's my hand to kiss." 

He touched, and with a knee depressed, 
Kissed it, and thus the fair addressed: 
" Lieutenant Laurens at the gate 
Begs on the ladies he may wait." 

Suffused her cheek the modest glow, 
And even tinged her neck of snow. 
While to her mother glanced her eye 
In which was read — seek there reply. 

Evinced the matron calmer joy, 
But sent to welcome him the boy, 
When Flora to her chamber fled. 
Was it to hide her blushes red? 
Was it to soothe to gentler rest, 
The dulcet flutterings of her breast, 
Or veil from e'en a mother's eyes 
' Her overflowing ecstasies? 



Canto VIIL MAID OF THE DOE. 231 

Or was it to see if a trace appears 
Around her lids of distaining tears. 
And with their lustre to repair 
The disarray of her curling hair ? 



XL 



Whate'er the cause, she fled away, 
And seemed to Laurens long to stay. 
His greetings with the mother past, 
Often towards the door he cast 
An anxious glance. She comes at last ! 
And with her rosy radiant bloom 
Brought a new morning in the room. 

Their hands are clasped ; but ecstasy 
Blows girdled in timidity. 
E'en as the loveliest rose-bud's gloss, 
Glows through a bursting veil of moss. 
And from the eye the rapture-flash 
Comes softened by the drooping lash ; 
Thus they, O no ! not half expressed 
The tremulous joy of either breast, 
But every moment either's eye 
Told more and more of ecstasy, 
And every moment flowed their words 
More like the love-notes of the birds, 
Till, left alone, her hand caressed 
A moment, by his lips was pressed, 
Which, rapture-guided, dared to seek 
Their kisses next upon her cheek, 
When, tranced in bliss, his clasping arms 
An instant held her trembling charms. 



232 MAID OF THE DOE, Canto VIII 

XII. 

Another voice — another tread — 

A father's arms are round them spread — 

A father's blessings on their head ! 

A mother helped to join their hands, 

And one was near to bless the bands ; 

And never marriage vow was spoke v 

From hearts that sweeter felt its yoke. 

'• Be happy now, my children dear, 
To-morrow you shall fully hear 
How this, which seems so sudden done, 
Flows from deep consultation 
With friends, and foes, to mercy friends, 
United to promote its ends. 

•' The current of events of late, 
Hath flowed as from the hand of fate ; 
I stemmed it till 'twould almost seem 
Impious to struggle with the stream. 
What some think casualties are given, 
The pious deem, as signs from heaven ; 
And wisdom in events hears still 
The voice of her true oracle. 
In a dark traitor, bandit horde, 
In conflagration and the sword, 
Signs have I read that might appal, 
As did the writing on the wall. 
From all hath this grey head been saved 
By two whose hearts together cleaved. 
Could I do less than join their hands, 
And pray for blessing on the bans 
Now, when I find that duty too 
^ Bids me the deed benignant do, 



Canto VIIL MAID OF THE DOE. 233 

Fitly to crown a purpose fair 

To check the horrors of this war ? — 

But now enough ! dear ones, dismiss 
All care and yield your hearts to bliss." 

XIII. 

' 'Tis sweet to see that what is best 
Is most extensively possessed. 
What are the luxuries wealth can spread 
Upon its costly board, to bread ? 
What all the cordials art can wring 
From luscious fruit, to the clear spring 7 
What all the grandeurs gold can buy, 
To those of ocean, earth and sky ? 
Dearest of every flower that blows 
And commonest is the red rose ; 
Type of the feeling which imparts 
The sweetest joys to human hearts; 
And this, creation's dearest dower, 
Is universal as the flower, 

XIV. 

And know ye naught can long endure, 
No matter what, unless 'tis pure? 
Corruption, be it in what it may, 
Is but a name for swift decay. 

XV. 

Then, ye who through perpetual strife 
Seek what ye deem the end of life — 
Enjoyment, happiness, content — 
Take care you have your footsteps bent 
20* 



234 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto YIII. 

To the true fountains, and be sure 
You carry soul and senses pure. 
For the great sources of delight, 
What are they if the sense be blight, 
Made for their sweet perception, more 
Than light to blindness, or the store 
Of music in the song-bird's throat 
To those who never heard a note? 

XVI. 

Two vast departments nature makes, 
One that bestows, and one that takes ; 
Compounded each and shaped to be 
In everlasting harmony. 
The first, by the eternal Will, 
Flows on unchanged, unchansfeabie, 
The last, the more to exalt his soul, 
Was left to man^s supreme control 

Thence, in his choice it lies to bring 
His vessel to the eternal spring, * 

Clean or unclean ; but that defiled, 
The draught from the sweet fount is spoiled; 
But pure, through the full soul expand 
The flavors caught from God's own hand. 

XVII. 

And never purer pair than this 
Came to the sweetest fount of bliss. 
Life's gentle tasks and generous cares 
Had occupied their growing years; 
And grief, misfortune, solitude, 
Had taught them lessons great and good. 



Canto VIII. MAID OF THE DOE. 235 

Instead of flattery's baleful arts 
And coquetry to waste their hearts, 
And petty emulation's toil, 
And crowds that harden, blunt and soil, 
They drew from nature's fostering breast 
The love that blesses while 'tis blest, 
And learned no wiser, better sense 
Than teaches true benevolence. 

XVIII. 

Thus formed, and in such school as this, 

They knew what man can know of bliss. 

The very tears she lately shed 

Were fountains whence her joys were fed, 

So tenderly with rapture-sighs 

He kissed their traces from her eyes ; 

So earnestly he prayed their stain 

Might never touch the lids again. 

XIX. 

*' But love, you know we soon must part; 
Must then no sorrow touch my heart? 
Must I not feel some natural fears ? 
Must I not shed some natural tears ?" 

XX. 

" Yes, dearest, as the damask rose 
Weeps for the day-beam when it goes 
Drops, which but more her beauty adorn, 
And gild the gladness of the morn. 
^' But, loveliest, let us not employ 
These precious moments save in joy, 



236 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto Vlll 

And when they vanish, let them fling 

Their sweetness back from memory's wing; 

For nothing argues of divine 

Less in the bosom than to pine. 

'Tis of the earth that earthward tends, 

The heavenly heavenward ascends. 

Let the mole-eyed in darkness mope ; 

Those beauteous orbs were made for hope ; 

And be its radiance ever given 

To the sweet miniatures of heaven !" 
Thus joy and wisdom mingled beams 
Till rapture took the shape of dreams. 

XXL 

And from their union not accrued 
Their blisses only, but the good 
Of all the region round — 'twas oil 
Poured on the waves of civil broil. 
Of either side the leading ones 
Met frequently at Hamilton's, 
Whose social board its influence brought 
To aid the lessons wisdom taught. 

And after Guilford's day of fame, 
Which quickly from this period came, 
And the great armies went away 
To distant fields to bear the fray, 
No more the baleful sword of war 
Blazed in the valleys of the Haw ; 
And from that scourge the sweet release 
Prepared all hearts to welcome peace ; 
That peace which freedom's flag unfurled 
In triumph to the gladdened world, 



Canto VIIl MAID OF THE DOE- 237 

O'er its new half, where man might see 
The miracles of liberty. 

XXIL 

O be they here forever wrought, 
And more and more with blessing fraught, 
Until their hopes, whose mighty toil 
From thraldom freed the generous soil, 
May to perfection grow complete, 
And make their land the happy seal 
Where all shall have an equal share 
In laying burdens all must bear ; 
Where every one his own shall use, 
And none his neighbor's shall abuse; 
Where 'twill at length be taught on earth 
To value things by their true worth, 
And he the noblest be confessed 
Whose conduct proves him to be best ; 
Where gifts, great in themselves, when turned 
From their right purpose, shall be spurned, 
And of desert the touchstone true 
Be, not what people have, but do ; 
Where genius, learning, pleasure, pelf, 
That centres in one's little self, 
Shall as the miser's gold be prized, 
Which buys his right to be despised ; 
Where men, not hollow shows and forms 
Shall seek, but that which fills and warms; 
Where power shall be understood 
As but the means of doing good ; 
And who abuse the sacred trust 
Be reckoned viler than the dust; 



238 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VIIL 

Where, far from gaining reverence, pride 
Shall be what men will most deride, 
And arrogance and all her brood 
As noxious reptiles be eschewed; 
Where the great fountain of the sense 
Men prize, shall be benevolence, 
And high and holy wisdom come 
To make indeed a Christendom ! 

XXIII. 

Such hope in patriot bosoms burned 
When to its sheath the sword returned; 
Lit by such vision to his home 
Did the war-broken veteran roam. 
This mighty good would pay his toil, 
Would vindicate the civil broil, 
Sanction the independence won, 
And crown the fame of Washington. 
His veterans, save their glory-scars, 
Gained but such hopes by all their wars ; 
And the great champions asked no more. 
But sought their hearths content and poor, 
And happy saw their store increase 
By the delightful works of peace. 

XXIV. 

But homeward none their footsteps bent 
More joyfully than Laurens went ; 
And in that time of outstretched arms 

To welcome heroes home. 
In triumph come from battle-harms, 

With laurels fresh in bloom. 



Canto VIII MAID OF THE DOE. 239 

None did a deeper rapture know 

Than the blest lady of the doe, 

Whose arm sustained, to crown their joy, 

A beauteous, curly-headed boy. 

With lily throat and rosy cheek 

And bright blue eyes that well could speak, 

Before, to welcome him from war, 

The cherub lips had learned papa. 

XXV. 

From summer heats to be removed. 

To view the scenes where first they loved, 

More perfectly to be at rest, 

And in each other wholly blest. 

They sought again their mountain wood 

In all the sweets of solitude. 

The service boughs, the first to fling 
Out their white banners to the spring, 
Had lost their blossoms, and had blown 
The sweet crab-apple flowers and gone; 
Nor with the dogwood's bloom of light 
The sunny ridges now were bright; 
But by the streams the grape's perfume 
Fell o'er the azalia's golden bloom. 
These with each shade of yellow tinge 
The mountain vales profusely fringe ; 
And in such ample globes they glow, 
And into bowers so lofty grow, 
The stranger almost deems he roves 
A wilderness of orange groves. 



240 MAID OF THE DOE. Canio VJIl 

XXVI. 

Here amid nature's beauteous work 
A cabin on the Laurel Fork, 
Named from its fountain the Spring Camp, 
Was by its streams and meadows damp, 
(For by three creeks and meadow ground 
The pretty spot was circled round,) 
Saved when the conflagration spread 
Erst from the mountain's loftiest head. 
So small the cot and rudely dressed 
It seemed but as a larger nest, 
Or its overhanging grove of bloom 
Their house, and that their sleeping room, 
For while the day its splendor pours 
They lived in the sweet out-of-doors ; 
And waked them every morn to love 
Their fellow-lodgers of the grove. 

XXVII. 

For with the very dawn would stir 
The full and feathered orchestre — 
The robin red-breasts' warbled frets 
Supplied the fluttering clarionets ; 
The wood-lark's trills or deep or thin, 
Were sweet as any violin ; 
With which the dove's soft cadence suits, 
Harmonious as the melting flute's; 
While red-birds, with their scarlet crests, 
Breathed braver music from their breasts ; 
The various wrens, but all with life 
And spirit stirring, matched the fife ; 



Ca7tio VIII. MAID OF THi3 DOE. 241 

The many thrushes' tones were mellow 
As ever flowed from violincello ; 
And blent with these their warbles pour 
The beauteous birds of Baltimore, 
The passing raven to their tune 
Croaked deeper bass than the bassoon ; 
, While from the golden eagle's throat 
Rung out sometimes a bugle note ; 
And the merry clinks of the bob-o-links 

Chimed in like Turkish bells ; 
And the pheasants come, when with their drum 

The choir consummate swells ; — 
But the baby's prattle the parents prefer 
To every feathered chorister. 

XXVIIL 

And oft their former haunts they sought, 
Where love its first sweet lessons taught. 
And frequent on their deer-trod way, 
By memory-cherished bank and bray, 
As with delighted step they go, 
The lady called her vanished doe. 

At last, responsive to the sound, 
They heard, they thought, a sudden bound ; 
Then all was still — another call. 
And soon they heard a soft foot-fall. 
And through the forest stealing near, 
And anxious listening saw the deer. 

The lady at the vision charmed 
Ran to her playmate, but alarmed 
She bounded off; and then upsprung, 
And in suspense a moment hung, 
21 



242 MAID OF THE DOE. Canto VIII 

What seemed a maiden doe ; 
And, save where on its lily field 
Her neck a sanguine flower revealed, 

She was as white as snow. 
Amid the sombre shades around 
The mossy trunks and mossy ground, 

The rocks, or lone or piled, 
Seemed that bright shape, with dazzling eye,- 
In attitude away to fly, 

A spirit of the wild, 
And soon they lost the vision fair, 
^ As it had vanished into air. 

But when recovered from surprise, 
Fully again did recognise 
The mother deer the mother dame, 
And gentle as of yore became ; 
And happy in the forest go 
Once more the lady and the doe. 



Muse of the wild, thus to prolong 

I never dreamed this mountain song; 

But who such themes, such scenes can sing^ 

Nor dally with the echoing string? 

Who where his country's heroes trode 

Can tread nor linger on the road? 

Who through a realm, in fancy stray, 

Beloved and lone and far away. 

Which present, fed his bright day-dreams, 

Which absent, with their memory teems, 



Canto VIII MAID OF THE DOE- 243 

And to its charms his tribute pay, 
Nor pause in foolish, fond delay ? 
E'en yet I scarce can have it done, 
Nor thank my neighbors, one by one, 
(And I must name Buck Dickerson,) 
For all the kindness they bestowed 
When mine was there a stranger's road. 
Then at their side I chased the deer. 
Was welcomed to their mountain cheer, 
And listened by the wizard hour 
To tales of spells and words of power, 
And heard about the milk-white doe 
With which this lay began its flow. 

Let it with her be sped ! 
And would like her, as vision bright, 
It could in beauty gleam to sight, 

And vanish graceful as her tread I 



FINIS. 



APPENDIX 



TO 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 



21 



APPENDIX. 



Note A. 

Hot from a gun its sulphurous breath 
Made him a moment taste of death. — P. 93. 

While the text is in press, I have discovered the following ac- 
count of the event alluded to, in a communication of the Rev. Wm. 
Hill, to General Lee, through Major J. Stephenson. Mr. Hill is 
distinguished for his learning and talents, and for an eloquent 
eermon he preached at General Morgan's funeral. There can bo 
no doubt of the correctness of the following narrative, as Major 
Stephenson states Mr. Hill received it from General Morgan himself. 
I regret I had not met with it in time to liave made the text con- 
form to it. But the deviation is immaterial as far as Morgan's 
merit is concerned . 

"When ready to scale the walls, Morgan ordered one of his men 
first to mount the ladder, but seeing him hesitate, he took the lad- 
der himself, and as soon as he raised his head over the wall a musket 
was fired in his face; the ball missed him, but he was badly 
burned by the powder, some grains of which be carried in his faco 
to his grave— and by the shock was thrown back at the foot of the 
ladder. He arose, and took the ladder a second time, and as soon 
as he was high enough he sprung over the wall, but alighting upon 
a cannon, he was thrown upon his back under its muzzle, which no 
doubt saved his life ; for there were several bayonets thrust at him 
at the moment, which struck the cannon, but missed him, in con- 



248 APPENDIX TO 

sequence of his being thrown upon the ground. But by the tim« 
he arose, his men came pouring in after him, and so diverted the 
attention of those around him, that he escaped, and presently took 
all that part of the town prisoners." 

Here then is an additional instance of gallantry displayed by 
Morgan on that occasion, of which the histories I have read are 
silent. From G. W. P. Custis, Esq., of Arlington, I have derived 
what is said in the text of Morgan's habits as a hunter. His words 
are : " After the conclusion of the war of *56, called the French war, 
Morgan for a time led a hunter's life. His hunting grounds em- 
braced the region now called the North Mountain, and the glen» 
and valleys leading to the Potomac. He has remained in the wil- 
derness four months without entering a human habitation, subsist- 
ing chiefly upon the game with which the forests abounded. In bad 
weather he resorted for shelter to a cave formed by overhanging 
rocks. Once when employed in cooking some venison at a fire 
made at the entrance of his cave, the hunter discovered particles of 
earth and stone dropping from the rock above, and looking up, saw 
the visage of some animal retiring from the summit of the cavern. 
Morgan's ready rifle was in a moment in his hand, and levelled 
toward the spot from which the animal's head had just been with- 
drawn. Presently appeared the points of two ears, and then the 
glistening eyes and broad forehead of an enormous panther, who, 
allured by the savory fumes of the broiKng venison, was, no doubt, 
desirous of sharing the hunter'^s repast. Morgan touched his trigger, 
and in an instant the tawny savage came tumbling into the fire, 
scattering the brands far and wide in the death-struggle, which was 
soon terminated, the ball having entered the creature's brain. 
Morgan preserved the skin as a trophy, and wore it as a pouch in 
his memorable march to Quebec in 1775. 

** General Morgan's estimate of the best quality of a soldier was 
somewhat unique. He said, that in regard to fighting, the men of 
all liations were pretty much alike ; they fight as much as is neces. 
sary, and no more. But for the great desiderattmt in a soldier, give 
him a Dutchman ; for he starves welL One of the finest eulo- 
giums upon the life and character of the pater patrice was pro- 
nounced by General Morgan in 1797. Speaking of the necessity 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 249 

of the beloved chief to the happy consummation of the war of In. 
dependence, Morgan said : * We had officers of undoubted military 
talents, as Greene and others. We had officers of the most un- 
daunted courage, as Wayne and others. One great master spirit 
was yet wanting, to guide, direct, and animate the whole, and Al- 
mighty God sent that one in the person of George Washington,*" 



Note B. 

The wild-sJcin cap and wild-bird plume 
Shading their brows with savage gloom, — P. 95. 

The description of Morgan's company, given in the text, is happily 
confirmed and illustrated by the following reminiscences from Mr. 
Custis : " Morgan's first and famous corps of riflemen, with which 
he marched to the camp at Cambridge in 1775, was composed of 
hardy yeomen who dwelt about the Blue Ridge, and the then 
frontier settlements of that mountain region. They were in com. 
fortable circumstances, and the sergeant's bounty would not have 
tempted a single individual among them to enlist. But Morgan 
was their chief. They had drank with him, fought with him, and 
kicked up a dust for miles around under his banner. So, when 
Morgan said, * Come boys, who'll follow me to the camp at Gam- 
bridge?' it was the appeal of a Highland chieftain to his clan. 
The stalwart mountaineer rushed to the calL They gathered around 
their intrepid leader. Short was their preparation for war, Thd 
costume of the woodsmen — the hunting-shirt, leggins, and mocca- 
sins — was their uniform; the rifle, tomahawk, and knife>were their 
arms ; and their baggage, the blanket buckled to their backs. ThuB 
equipped, they strode away to the North, a band of young giants, 
for the combats of Liberty. 

" The deadly effects of the American riflemen were soon felt in 
their enemy's armies, and with a view to counteract them, bands of 
Yagers (hunters) were embodied in the German principalities, and 
shipped to the hostile plains of America. In open ground theBO 
troops might be effective, but to fight the American woodsmen in 



250 APPENDIX TO 

their native forests, the Yagers were found to be wholly useless. 
The German troops upon beholding the Hunting-shirts — each man 
to his tree — would run for shelter to their camps, shouting in all 
the English they knew—-* Rebel in de bush ! — Rebel in do bush ]* ** 



Note C. 

For though I know misfortune's blow, ^c. — P. 101. 

Since preparing canto third for the press, I have obtained from 
among General Lee's papers, one endorsed *' Major Lee's order of 
attack on Paulus Hook." The directions contained in it are follow- 
ed with these remarks : 

" Major Lee is so assured of the gallantry of the officers and men 
under his command, that he feels exhortation useless. He there- 
fore only requires the most profound silence and secrecy. He 
pronounces death as the immediate fate of any soldier who may 
violate, in the least degree, the silence he has ordered to be observed. 
He recommends to his officers, to add to the vigor of their attacks 
the advantage of surprise ; therefore to continue occult till the mo- 
ment of action . 

*» Success is not at the will of mortals — all they can do is to 
deserve it. 

" Be this our determination and this our conduct, and we shall 
have cause to triumph even in adversity, 

" Watch word — * Be firm.' Henry Lee, Jr." 

The address in the text was extended for the purpose of referring 
to former achievements of a corps and commander destined to act 
a prominent part in the sequel, thereby to introduce them favor- 
ably to the reader ; but I am happy to find its spirit agreeing well 
with that which actually animated their exertions . The enterprise, 
as the reader knows, was successful, but perhaps he may not re- 
member how handsomely it was rewarded by Congress. Mr, Sparks 
in a note (page 376, vol. 6th, of Washington's Correspondence) 
says : " Congress had passed resolves highly complimentary to 
Major Lee, thanking him for * the remarkable prudence, address, 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 251 

and bravery displayed by him in the attack on the enemy's fort and 
works at Paulus Hook.'" Much praise was likewise bestowed on 
the officers and soldiers of his party. A medal of gold, emblemati- 
cal of the affair, was ordered to be struck and presented to Major 
Lee . The brevet rank and pay of a captain were given to Lieu- 
tenants Mcx\llister and Randolph respectively ; and $15,000 in 
money were voted to be distributed among the non-commissioned 
ojficers and privates, in such a manner as the Commander-in-chief 
should direct. 

Note C— 2. 

But covered most loith glory scars 

Were Kirkwood and his Delawares,-^T, 127. 

I was so fortunate last winter as to be thrown a good deal into 
the society of Judge Brooke, of the Court of Appeals of Virginia, 
who is one of the few bright links yet remaining between this and 
the Revolutionary generation. Our conversation, which I loved to 
direct to the scenes of his youth, once turned upon the battle of the 
Cowpens, when he glanced at the unjust silence which had been 
preserved by history as to the merits of Captain Kirkwood in that 
action ; upon which he briefly touched . I confess, I was so sur- 
prised, and so ashamed of my ignorance of them, that I said little f 
but took the first opportunity of consulting Marshall's Life of Wash- 
ington and Lee's Memoirs, to see if it were possible that I could 
have forgotten that they ever mentioned him in their accounts of 
that brilliant victory . I found that they did not . Yet such waa 
my confidence in Judge Brooke's accuracy, and such my delight to 
adorn my pages with the name of a man who perished on the thirty- 
sixth occasion of risking his life for his country, and whom General 
Lee in the page of his Memoirs above referred to describes as ** tho 
brave, the meritorious, the unrewarded Kirkwood," that I inserted 
in my description of that battle, which was then finished, the 
mention therein made of him. Meeting afterwards with Mr. Cuetis, 
I told him what I had learned from Judge Brooke as to Kirkwood's 
tervices at the Cowpens ; and he, with his extensive knowledge of 



252 APPENDIX TO 

Revolutionary men, was so surprised to hear that Kirkwood was at 
that battle, that I began to think I might have misunderstood Judge 
Brooke, and wrote to him to know if I had. From his reply I ex- 
tract the following passage : 

«* All I can say is, that I often heard it said in the army, that 
Captain Kirkwood was in the battle of the Cowpens, and that he 
first gave the word of command to charge bayonets under the smoke 
of the first fire given by the Marylanders under Colonel Howard ; 
and that it would be very difficult to convince me that what I heard 
from so many officers at different times was not true." This was 
sufficient for me ; but for the sake of others, I hunted up and ex- 
amined Tarlton's Campaigns ; but, alas ! he too was silent as to 
Kirkwood's presence in the battle where he was so severely defeated. 
Under these circumstances, I began to fear that the glorious old 
soldier's memory would be deprived of its honor from that famous 
field, when Mr, Custis luckily stumbled on a passage in Major Gor. 
den's Anecdotes of the Revolution, to which he gladly referred me . 
It is in his account of Michael Docherty, who at page 397 thus 
speaks ; ** The bloody battle of Camden, fought on the 16th of Au- 
gust—bad luck to the day — brought me once again into trouble . 
Our regiment was cut up root and branch, and poor Pilgarlic, my 
unfortunate self, wounded and made prisoner. My prejudices 
against a jail I have frankly told, and being pretty confident that I 
should not a whit better relish a lodging in the inside of a prison- 
ship, I cmce again suffered myself to be persuaded, and listed in 
the infantry of Tai-lton's Legion. O botheration, what a mistake I 
I never before kept such bad company ; as a man of honor I was 
out of my ilement, and should certainly have given them leg bail, 
but that I had no time to brood over my misfortunes ; for the battle 
of the Cowpens quickly following, Howard and Old Kirkwood 
gave us the bayonet so handsomely, that we were taken one and 
all," &c. 

This Michael Docherty is recorded by Major Gorden to have been 
" a distinguished soldier of the Delawares," from whose lips he, the 
Major, received the above narrative. So that the most incredulous 
must now believe that Kirkwood was at the battle of the Cowpens— 
that Howard's sagacity would have placed him in a distinguished 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 253 

position, which all the world knows his own gallantry must have 
made the most of. 

This recurrence to Judge Brooke reminds me of another anecdote 
I had of him, which will not be wholly out of place here, as it re- 
lates to Morgan, and is graphically characteristic of the old rifle- 
man. The Judge tells me he met Morgan and Burr together in 
Fredericksburg in the midst of the excitement occasioned by the 
first publication of Jay's treaty. Of course, every one listened with 
much eagerness to the opinions of two such distinguished men on 
such an interesting subject ; and Burr was ardent in his denuncia- 
tions of the treaty. But Morgan replied to him—*' Aaron," (for it 
seems to have been his habit to address his fellow-soldiers quite 
familiarly,) " Aaron, when I first heard of the treaty, and first read 
it, I thought of it as you do : but when I heard that the old Horse 
[General Washington] was for it, / shut my pan," 

Note D. 

Till Howard's self could scarcely save 

From his own men this foeman brave. — P. 134. 

" While in this confusion I ordered a charge with the bayonet, 
which order was obeyed with great alacrity. As the line advanced, 
I'observed their artillery a short distance in front, and called to Cap- 
tain Ewing, who was near me, to take it. Captain Anderson (now 
General Anderson, of Montgomery county, Maryland) hearing the 
order, also pushed for the same object, and both being emulous for 
the prize, kept pace until near the first piece, when Anderson, by 
placing the end of his espontoon forward into the ground, made a 
long leap, which brought him upon the gun, and gave him the 
honor of the prize. My attention was now drawn to an altercation 
of some of the men with an artillery-man, who appeared to make it 
a point of honor not to surrender his match. The men, provoked 
by his obstinacy, would have bayoneted him on the spot, had I not 
interfered, and desired them to spare the life of so brave a man . 
He then surrendered his match." — Note from Colonel Howard^ in 
Lee's Campaign of '81, p. 97. 
22 



254 APPENDIX TO 



Note E, 

From thy south shore, great stream of swans. 
Came the great Lees and Washingtons. — P. 153, 

The following genealogy of the Lees of Virginia was written by 
William Lee, who was afterwards our Minister at the Hague. 
Though a genealogical sketch, it is not without historical value, and 
may therefore be interesting to others than the members and con- 
nections of the family it more immediately concerns : — 

" Richard Lee, of a good family in Shropshire, and whose picture, 
I am told, is now at Cotton, near Bridgenorth, the seat of Lancelot 
Lee, Esq., some time in the reign of Charles the First went over to 
the Colony of Virginia, as Secretary, and one of the King's Privy 
Council, which last post will, for shortness, hereafter be called, of 
the Council. He was a man of good stature, comely visage, an en- 
terprising genius, a sound head, vigorous spirit, and generous nature. 
When he got to Virginia, which was at that time not much culti- 
vated, he was so pleased with the country that he made large settle- 
ments there, with the servants he carried over. After some years 
he returned to England, and gave away all the lands he had taken 
up and settled, at his own expense, to these servants he had fixed 
on them ; some of whose descendants are now possessed of very 
considerable estates in that Colony ; after staying some time in 
England, he returned again to Virginia with a fresh band of adven- 
turers, all of whom he settled there. During the civil war here, 
Sir William Berkeley was Governor of Virginia. He and Lee being 
both loyalists, kept the Colony to its allegiance, so that after the 
death of Charles I., Cromwell was obliged to send some ships 
of war and soldiers to reduce the Colony, which not being well able 
to resist, a treaty was made with the Commonwealth of England, 
wherein Virginia was styled an independent dominion. This treaty 
was ratified here as made with a foreign power, upon which Sir 
William Berkeley,, who was of the same family with the present 
Earl of Berkeley, was removed, and another Governor appointed in 
his foom. When Charles IL was at Breda, Richard Lee came over 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 255 

from Virginia and went there to him, to know if he could undertake 
to protect the Colony, if they returned to their allegiance to him ; 
but finding no support could be obtained, he returned to Virginia, 
and remained quiet, till the death of O. Cromwell, when he, with the 
assistance of Sir William Berkeley, contrived to get King Charles 
II. proclaimed there, King of England, Scotland, France, Ireland, 
and Virginia, two years before he was restored here ; and Sir 
William Berkeley was reinstated as his Governor ; in which station, 
he continued, till some time after the Restoration, when he came 
over here and died presently. It was in consequence of this step, 
that the motto to the Virginia arms, always, till after the Union, 
was en dat Virginia quintam ; but since the Union, it was changed 
to en dat Virginia quartam^ that is, King of Great Britain, France, 
Ireland, and Virginia. 

"Here by the way, I cannot help remarking the extreme ingrati- 
tude of this Prince Charles II. Oliver Cromwell, to punish Virginia 
and some other parts of America, for adhering so firmly to the 
royal cause, after he had got himself quite fixed in his supreme au- 
thority both here and there, contrived the famous Navigation Act, 
upon a model he borrowed from the Dutch, by which the American 
Colonies were deprived of many of their ancient and valuable privi- 
leges. Upon the Restoration, instead of repealing this act, it was 
confirmed by the whole legislature here ; and to add to the ingrati- 
tude, at two other periods in his reign taxes were imposed upon" 
American commodities, under the pretext of regulations of trade ; 
from which wicked source have flowed all the bitter waters that are 
now likely to overwhelm America and this country, and most pro- 
bably will be in the end the ruin of both. But to return. This 
Richard Lee had several children. The two eldest, John and Richard, 
were educated at Oxford ; John took his degree as Doctor of Physic, 
and returning to Virginia, died before his father ; Richard was so 
clever and learned, that some great men offered to promote him to 
the highest dignities in the church, if his father would let him stay 
in England; but this off'er was refused, because the old gentleman 
was determined to fix all his children in Virginia, and so firm was 
he in the purpose, that by his will, he ordered an estate he had in 
England, I think near Stratford, by Bow, in Middlesex, at that 



256 APPENDIX TO 

time worth eight or nine hundred pounds per annum, to be sold, and 
the money to be divided among his children. He died, and was 
buried in Virginia, leaving a numerous progeny, whose names I have 
chiefly forgot. His eldest son, then living, was Richard, who 
spent almost his whole life in study, and usually wrote his notes in 
Greek, Hebrew, or Latin, many of which are now in Virginia, so 
that he neither improved or diminished his paternal estate, though 
at that time he might with ease have acquired what would produce 
at this day a most princely revenue. He was of the Council in 
Virginia, and also other offices of honor and profit, though they 
yielded little to him. He married a Corbin, into which family his 
predecessors in England had before married, but the name was then 
spelt Corbyn, or Corbyne, I think of Staffordshire ; from this mar- 
riage he had, and left behind him when he died, in Virginia, which 
was some time after the Revolution, five sons, Richard, Philip, 
Francis, Thomas, Henry, and one daughter. Richard settled in 
London as a Virginia merchant, in partnership with one Thomas 
Corbin, a brother of his mother's ; he married an heiress in England 
by the name of Silk, and by her left one son, George, and two 
daughters, Lettice and Martha ; all these three children went to 
Virginia, and settled ; George married a Wormley there, who died, 
leaving one daughter ; then, he married a Fairfax, nearly related to 
Lord Fairfax of Yorkshire, and died, leaving by his last marriage 
three sons that are now minors and are at school in England, under 
care of Mr. James Russell. Lettice married a Corbin, and her 
sister married a Tuberville. Their eldest children intermarried, from 
which union George Lee Tuberville, now at school at Winton Col- 
lege, is the oldest issue. Philip, the second son, went to Maryland, 
where he married and settled. He was one of the Proprietors' 
Council, and died, leaving a very numerous family, that are now- 
branched out largely over the whole Province, and are in plentiful 
circumstances — the eldest son, Richard, being now a member of 
the Proprietors' Council. 

" Francis, the third son, died a bachelor. Thomas, the fourth son, 
though with none but a common Virginia education, yet having 
strong natural parts, long after he was a man he learned the lan- 
guages without any assistance but his own genius, and became a 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 257 

tolerable adept in Greek and Latin. He married a Ludwell, of 
whose genealogy I must give a short account, being materially in- 
terested therein, 

" The Ludwells, though the name is now extinct, are an old and 
honorable family of Somersetshire in England ; the original of them, 
many ages since, coming from Germany. Philip Ludwell and John 
Ludwell, being brothers, and sons of a Miss Cottington, who was 
heiress of James Cottington, the next brother and heir of the 
famous Lord Francis Cottington, of whom a pretty full account 
may be seen in Lord Clarendon's history of the Rebellion, were in 
Court favor after the restoration of Charles II. John was ap- 
pointed Secretary, and one of the Council in Virginia, where I 
believe he died without issue. Philip, the eldest brother, went to 
America as Governor of Carolina ; from whence he went to Virginia, 
and married the widow of Sir William Berkeley, by whom he had a 
daughter, that married a Colonel Park, who was afterwards Go- 
vernor of the Leeward Islands, in the West Indies,- and died in An- 
tigua, the seat of his government ; and one son named Philip. After 
some time old Philip Ludwell returned to England, and dying here, 
was buried in Bow Church, near Stratford. His son Philip re- 
mained in Virginia, where his father had acquired a very capital 
estate, and married a Harrison, by whom he had two daughters : 
Lucy the eldest, who married a Colonel Grymes,'who was of the 
Council in Virginia ; and Hannah, who married the beforementioued 
Thomas Lee ; and one son, Philip. This Philip was, as his father 
had been, of the Council in Virginia. He married a Grymes, by 
whom he had several children, most of whom died in their infancy ; 
and in the year 1753 his wife died. In 1760 he came over to Eng- 
land for his health, and in 1767 he died here, when the male line 
of Ludwell became extinct. He lefl heiresses, three daughters, 
Hannah Philippa, Frances, and Lucy. The second daughter is since 
dead, unmarried. 

'* This Thomas Lee, by his industry and parts, acquired a conside- 
rable fortune; for, being a younger brother with many children, his 
paternal estate was very small. He was also appointed of the 
Council, and though he had very few acquaintances in England, he 
was so well known by reputation, that upon his receiving a loss by 



258 APPENDIX TO 

fire, the late Queen Carolina sent him over a bountiful present out 
of her own privy purse. 

" Upon the late Sir William Gooch's being recalled, who had been 
some time Governor of Virginia, he became President and Com- 
mander-in-chief over the Colony, in which station he continued for 
some time, till the King thought proper to appoint him Governor of 
the Colony, but he died in 1750, before his commissiop got over to 
him. 

" He left by his marriage with Miss Ludwell, six sons, Philip Lud- 
well, Thomas Ludwell, Richard Henry, Francis Lightfoot, William, 
Arthur, and two daughters, all well provided for in point of fortune. 
Philip Ludwell is now of the Council in Virginia, is married, has 
two daughters, and lives at Stratford, on Potomac river, Virginia. 
Thomas Ludwell is married, hus several children, and lives at 
Bellevue, Potomac river, Virginia. Richard Henry is married, and 
lives at Chantilly, Potomac river, and has several children. Francis 
Lightfoot, two years ago, married a da ughter, and one that will be 
a co-heiress of John Taylor of Virginia ; he has no child, and lives 
at Manokin, on Rappahannock river, in Virginia. William (the 
writer of this account) in 1769 married in London, Miss Hannah 
Philippa Ludwell, eldest daughter and co-heiress of the abovemen- 
tioned Philip Ludwell, has no children, and is settled as a Virginia 
merchant, on Tower Hill, London. Arthur studied physic at Edin- 
burgh, where he took his degrees ; but disliking the profession, he 
entered about two years ago a student of law at Lincoln^s Inn, and 
is now at No. 3, Essex Court, in the Temple, prosecuting his studies. 
The two daughters, Hannah and Alice, were both well married, and 
are settled in America. 

*' Henry, the fifth brother, and next to Thomas, married a Bland, 
and left John, Richard, Henry, and Lettice. John is dead without 
issue. Richard is still living, and unmarried, though forty-five 
years old, which is a great age in Virginia to be single ; and his seat 
is called Lee Hall, on Potomac river, Virginia. Henry is married, 
and has several children ; his seat is called Leesylvania, on Potomac 
river, Virginia. The only sister of these five brothers married a 
Fitzhugh, a considerable family in Virginia, and left children. Her 
descendants are now living. — London, September, 1771." 



THE MAID OF THE DOE. 259 

** Henry Lee, of Leesylvania, married Lucy Grymes, daughter of 
the Colonel Grymes and Lucy Ludwell mentioned above ; and their 
eldest son was Colonel Lee of the text. He was born at Leesyl- 
vania, 29th of January, 1756. His Legion is thus described by 
Judge Johnson in his Life of Greene, a writer who has been deemed 
not partial to that admirable corps. *The legionary corps com- 
manded by Colonel Lee, was perhaps the finest corps that made its 
appearance on the arena of the Revolutionary war. It was formed 
expressly for Colonel Lee, under an order of General Washington, 
whilst the army lay in Jersey. It consisted, at this time, of about 
three hundred men, in equal proportion of infantry and horse. Both 
men and officers were picked from the army; the officers with 
reference only to their talents and qualities for service ; and the 
men by a proportionable selection from the troops of each State, 
enlisted for three years, or the war." — Life of Greene^ vol. 1, p. 354. 

Note F. 

Letter from Surgeon Skinner to Colonel Lee. 

" Camp before Ninety-Six, May 29th, 1781. 

** Dear Sir : At length I have joined General Greene with the 
stores. I am ordered to halt here, and am flattered with the hopes 
of seeing you and the corps in a few days. Be assured I am anxious 
to get rid of this charge. The horses I received from McClaud 
were almost skeletons, and in general, I think very indifferent. I 
have contrived to get some of them in good order, and most of them 
rather better than the Rushers. 

" Sergeant Kenton has given you the necessary information re- 
specting the quantities of each article. Since he left us I have been 
obliged to unpack and dry some of the articles which got wet in 
passing the Enoree. I have used all the expedition and caution in 
my power. The fatiguing embarrassment of seven hundred miles 
with wagons — the mortifying circumstances of a six months' syco- 
phantic slavery in Philadelphia, were matters that I bore with some 
degree of fortitude, as it was to serve a man and corps that I loved . 



>^. ^A 



260 APPENDIX. 

Ask yourself, whether I had a right to expect the laconic, severe 
message I received from you by Mr. Peak, who delivered it to me 
before a dozen officers. 

*' Give my aifectionate love to my brother officers, and be assured 
that I am, with every sentiment that the warmest friendship can 
inspire, Yours, 

A. SKINNER." 



ERRATA, 

pAge 98, third line from bottom, for * arbor' read 'harbor;' page 104, lliird line 
from bottom, for 'corpse' read ' corse;' page 128, line 15 from top, for * Edgar' read 
'Eager;' page 136, line 17 from top, for 'charger's, read 'chargers'; page 145, 
line 8 from bottom, dele comma after word * gleam j' page 100, line 16 from top, for 
••lain' read 'alain.' 



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